3-- 
.     , 


A 


THE    PATROL    OF    THE 
SUN    DANCE    TRAIL 

RALPH      CONNOR 


Of  CALIF.  LWURY.  LO§ 


The  Patrol  Of  The 
Sun  Dance  Trail 


By  RALPH  CONNOR 


Author  of  "Black  Rock,"  Etc, 


A.  L  BURT  COMPANY,  PUBLISHERS 

114-120  East  Twenty-third   Street      -      -      New  York 
PUBLISHED  BY  ARRANGEMENT  WITH  GBORGH  H.  DOKAV  COMPART 


Copyright,  1914, 
By  George  H.  Doran  Company 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I    THE   TRAIL-RUNNER         ....  9 

II  His  COUNTRY'S  NEED        ...  18 

in  A-FISHING  WE  WILL  Go      ...  27 

IV  THE  BIG  CHIEF 42 

V  THE  ANCIENT  SACRIFICE       ...  54 

VI  THE  ILLUSIVE  COPPERHEAD         .         .  70 

Vn  THE  SARCEE  CAMP       ....  86 

VIH  THE  GIRL  ON  No.  1    .         .         .         .  109 

IX  THE  KIDE  UP  THE  Bow        ...  124 

X  EAVEN  TO  THE  RESCUE       .         .         .  138 

XI  SMITH'S  WORK 155 

XII  IN  THE  SUN  DANCE  CANYON      .         .  174 
XIH  IN  THE  BIG  WIGWAM     .          .         .         .200 

XIV  " GOOD  MAN— GOOD  SQUAW"      .         .  218 

XV  THE  OUTLAW 234 

XVI  WAR         ......  254 

XVH  To  ARMS!  .  268 


2130078 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PA0» 

XVni  AN  OUTLAW,  BUT  A  MAN    ...  282 

XIX  Tun  GKEAT  CHIEF        .         ...  .300 

XX  THH  LAST  PATROL     ....  324 

XXT  WKT  THB  DOCTOB  STAYED 


THE  PATROL  OF  THE 
SUN  DANCE  TRAIL 


CHAPTEE  I 

THE   TRAIL-RUNNER 

"TTTIGH   up   on   the   hillside   in   the   midst   of   a 
rugged  group  of  jack  pines  the  Union  Jack 
shook  out  its  folds  gallantly  in  the  breeze 
that  swept  down  the  Kicking  Horse  Pass.    That  gal- 
lant flag  marked  the  headquarters  of  Superintendent 
Strong,  of  the  North  West  Mounted  Police,  whose 
special  duty  it  was  to  preserve  law  and  order  along 
the  construction  line  of  the  Canadian  Pacific  Railway 
Company,  HOW  pushed  west  some  scores  of  miles. 

Along  the  tote-road,  which  ran  parallel  to  the  steel, 
a  man,  dark  of  skin,  slight  but  wiry,  came  running,  his 
hard  panting,  his  streaming  face,  his  open  mouth  pro- 
claiming his  exhaustion.  At  a  little  trail  that  led  to 
the  left  he  paused,  noted  its  course  toward  the  flaunt- 
ing flag,  turned  into  it,  then  struggled  up  the  rocky 
hillside  till  he  came  to  the  wooden  shack,  with  a  deep 
porch  running  round  it,  and  surrounded  by  a  rustic 
fence  which  enclosed  a  garden  whose  neatness  illus- 
trated a  characteristic  of  the  British  soldier.  The 
runner  passed  in  through  the  gate  and  up  the  little 
gravel  walk  and  began  to  ascend  the  steps. 

'  *  Halt ! "  A  quick  sharp  voice  arrested  him.  ' '  What 
do  you  want  here?"  From  the  side  of  the  shack  an 
orderly  appeared,  neat,  trim  and  dandified  in  appear- 
ance, from  his  polished  boots  to  his  wide  cowboy  hat. 

"Beeg  Chief,"  panted  the  runner.  "Me — see — beeg 
Chief — queeck. ' ' 

The  orderly  looked  him  over  and  hesitated. 

9 


10  THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

"What  do  you  want  Big  Chief  for?" 

"Me — want — say  somet'ing,"  said  the  little  man, 
fighting  to  recover  his  breath,  "somet'ing  beeg — sure 
beeg."  He  made  a  step  toward  the  door. 

"Halt  there!"  said  the  orderly  sharply.  "Keep 
out,  you  half-breed!" 

"See — beeg  Chief — queeck,"  panted  the  half-breed, 
for  so  he  was,  with  fierce  insistence. 

The  orderly  hesitated.  A  year  ago  he  would  have 
hustled  him  off  the  porch  in  short  order.  But  these 
days  were  anxious  days.  Rumors  wild  and  terrifying 
were  running  through  the  trails  of  the  dark  forest. 
Everywhere  were  suspicion  and  unrest.  The  Indian 
tribes  throughout  the  western  territories  and  in  the 
eastern  part  of  British  Columbia,  under  cover  of  an 
unwonted  quiet,  were  in  a  state  of  excitement,  and  this 
none  knew  better  than  the  North  West  Mounted  Police. 
With  stoical  unconcern  the  Police  patroled  their 
beats,  rode  in  upon  the  reserves,  careless,  cheery,  but 
with  eyes  vigilant  for  signs  and  with  ears  alert  for 
sounds  of  the  coming  storm.  Only  the  Mounted  Po- 
lice, however,  and  a  few  old-timers  who  knew  the 
Indians  and  their  half-breed  kindred  gave  a  single 
moment's  thought  to  the  bare  possibility  of  danger. 
The  vast  majority  of  the  Canadian  people  knew  noth- 
ing of  the  tempestuous  gatherings  of  French  half- 
breed  settlers  in  little  hamlets  upon  the  northern 
plains  along  the  Saskatchewan.  The  fiery  resolutions 
reported  now  and  then  in  the  newspapers  reciting  the 
wrongs  and  proclaiming  the  rights  of  these  remote, 
ignorant,  insignificant,  half -tamed  pioneers  of  civiliza- 
tion roused  but  faint  interest  in  the  minds  of  the 
people  of  Canada.  Formal  resolutions  and  petitions 
of  rights  had  been  regularly  sent  during  the  past  two 


THE    TRAIL-RUNNEB  11 

years  to  Ottawa  and  there  as  regularly  pigeon-holed 
above  the  desks  of  deputy  ministers.  The  politicians 
had  a  somewhat  dim  notion  that  there  was  some  sort 
of  row  on  among  the  " breeds"  about  Prince  Albert 
and  Battleford,  but  this  concerned  them  little.  The 
members  of  the  Opposition  found  in  the  resolutions 
and  petitions  of  rights  useful  ammunition  for  attack 
upon  the  Government.  In  purple  periods  the  leader 
arraigned  the  supineness  and  the  indifference  of  the 
Premier  and  his  Government  to  "the  rights  and 
wrongs  of  our  fellow-citizens  who,  amid  the  hardships 
of  a  pioneer  civilization,  were  laying  broad  and  deep 
the  foundations  of  Empire. ' '  But  after  the  smoke  and 
noise  of  the  explosion  had  passed  both  Opposition  and 
Government  speedily  forgot  the  half-breed  and  his 
tempestuous  gatherings  in  the  stores  and  school- 
houses,  at  church  doors  and  in  open  camps,  along  the 
banks  of  the  far  away  Saskatchewan. 

There  were  a  few  men,  however,  that  could  not  for- 
get. An  Indian  agent  here  and  there  with  a  sense  of 
responsibility  beyond  the  pickings  of  his  post,  a  Hud- 
son Bay  factor  whose  long  experience  in  handling  the 
affairs  of  half-breeds  and  Indians  instructed  him  to 
read  as  from  a  printed  page  what  to  others  were  mean- 
ingless and  incoherent  happenings,  and  above  all  the 
officers  of  the  Mounted  Police,  whose  duty  it  was  to 
preserve  the  "pax  Britannica"  over  some  three  hun- 
dred thousand  square  miles  of  Her  Majesty's  domin 
ions  in  this  far  northwest  reach  of  Empire,  these  car- 
ried night  and  day  an  uneasiness  in  their  minds  which 
found  vent  from  time  to  time  in  reports  and  tele- 
graphic messages  to  members  of  Government  and 
other  officials  at  headquarters,  who  slept  on,  however, 
undisturbed.  But  the  word  was  passed  along  the  line 


12  THE    SUN   DANCE    TEAIL 

of  Police  posts  over  the  plains  and  far  out  into  British 
Columbia  to  watch  for  signs  and  to  be  on  guard.  The 
Police  paid  little  heed  to  the  high-sounding  resolutions 
of  a  few  angry  excitable  half-breeds,  who,  daring 
though  they  were  and  thoroughly  able  to  give  a  good 
account  of  themselves  in  any  trouble  that  might  arise, 
were  quite  insignificant  in  number;  but  there  was  an- 
other peril,  so  serious,  so  terrible,  that  the  oldest  offi- 
cer on  the  force  spoke  of  it  with  face  growing  grave 
and  with  lowered  voice — the  peril  of  an  Indian  up- 
rising. 

All  this  and  more  made  the  trim  orderly  hesitate. 
A  runner  with  news  was  not  to  be  kicked  unceremoni- 
ously off  the  porch  in  these  days,  but  to  be  considered. 

"You  want  to  see  the  Superintendent,  eh?" 

"Oui,  for  sure — queeck — run  ten  mile,"  replied  the 
half-breed  with  angry  impatience. 

"All  right,"  said  the  orderly,  "what's  your  name?" 

"Name!  Me,  Pinault — Pierre  Pinault.  Ah, 
sacr-r-el  Beeg  Chief  know  me — Pinault."  The  little 
man  drew  himself  up. 

"All  right !  Wait ! ' '  replied  the  orderly,  and  passed 
into  the  shack.  He  had  hardly  disappeared  when  he 
was  back  again,  obviously  shaken  out  of  his  correct 
military  form. 

"Go  in ! "  he  said  sharply.  ' ' Get  a  move  on !  What 
are  you  waiting  for?" 

The  half-breed  threw  him  a  sidelong  glance  of  con- 
tempt and  passed  quickly  into  the  "Beeg  Chief's" 
presence. 

Superintendent  Strong  was  a  man  prompt  in  de- 
cision and  prompt  in  action,  a  man  of  courage,  too, 
unquestioned,  and  with  that  bulldog  spirit  that  sees 
things  through  to  a  finish.  To  these  qualities  it  was 


THE    TRAIL-RUNNER  13 

that  he  owed  his  present  command,  for  it  was  no  insig- 
nificant business  to  keep  the  peace  and  to  make  the 
law  run  along  the  line  of  the  Canadian  Pacific  Railway 
through  the  Kicking  Horse  Pass  during  construction 
days. 

The  half-breed  had  been  but  a  few  minutes  with 
the  Chief  when  the  orderly  was  again  startled  out 
of  his  military  decorum  by  the  bursting  open  of  the 
Superintendent's  door  and  the  sharp  rattle  of  the 
Superintendent's  orders. 

"Send  Sergeant  Ferry  to  me  at  once  and  have  my 
horse  and  his  brought  round  immediately!"  The  or- 
derly sprang  to  attention  and  saluted. 

1 '  Yes,  sir ! "  he  replied,  and  swiftly  departed. 

A  few  minutes'  conference  with  Sergeant  Ferry,  a 
few  brief  commands  to  the  orderly,  and  the  Superin- 
tendent and  Sergeant  were  on  their  way  down  the 
steep  hillside  toward  the  tote-road  that  led  eastward 
through  the  pass.  A  half -hour's  ride  brought  them 
to  a  trail  that  led  off  to  the  south,  into  which  the  Su- 
perintendent, followed  by  the  Sergeant,  turned  his 
horse.  Not  a  word  was  spoken  by  either  man.  It  was 
not  the  Superintendent's  custom  to  share  his  plans 
with  his  subordinate  officers  until  it  became  neces- 
sary. "What  you  keep  behind  your  teeth,"  was  a 
favorite  maxim  with  the  Superintendent,  "will  harm 
neither  yourself  nor  any  other  man."  They  were  on 
the  old  Kootenay  Trail,  for  a  hundred  years  and  more 
the  ancient  pathway  of  barter  and  of  war  for  the 
Indian  tribes  that  hunted  the  western  plains  and  the 
foothill  country  and  brought  their  pelts  to  the  coast  by 
way  of  the  Columbia  River.  Along  the  lower  levels 
the  old  trail  ran,  avoiding,  with  the  sure  instinct  of  a 
skilled  engineer,  nature's  obstacles,  and  taking  full 


14  THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

advantage  of  every  sloping  hillside  and  every  open 
stretch  of  woods.  Now  and  then,  however,  the  trail 
must  needs  burrow  through  a  deep  thicket  of  spruce 
and  jack  pine  and  scramble  up  a  rocky  ridge,  where 
the  horses,  trained  as  they  were  in  mountain  climbing, 
had  all  they  could  do  to  keep  their  feet. 

Ten  miles  and  more  they  followed  the  tortuous  trail, 
skirting  mountain  peaks  and  burrowing  through 
underbrush,  scrambling  up  rocky  ridges  and  sliding 
down  their  farther  sides,  till  they  came  to  a  park-like 
country  where  from  the  grassy  sward  the  big  Douglas 
firs,  trimmed  clear  of  lower  growth  and  standing 
spaced  apart,  lifted  on  red  and  glistening  trunks  their 
lofty  crowns  of  tufted  evergreen  far  above  the  lesser 
trees. 

As  they  approached  the  open  country  the  Superin- 
tendent proceeded  with  greater  caution,  pausing  now 
and  then  to  listen. 

"There  ought  to  be  a  big  powwow  going  on  some- 
where near, ' '  he  said  to  his  Sergeant,  ' '  but  I  can  hear 
nothing.  Can  you!" 

The  Sergeant  leaned  over  his  horse's  ears. 

"No,  sir.  not  a  sound." 

"And  yet  it  can't  be  far  away,"  growled  the  Super- 
intendent. 

The  trail  led  through  the  big  firs  and  dipped  into 
a  little  grassy  valley  set  round  with  thickets  on  every 
side.  Into  this  open  glade  they  rode.  The  Superin- 
tendent was  plainly  disturbed  and  irritated ;  irritated 
because  surprised  arid  puzzled.  Where  he  had  ex- 
pected to  find  a  big  Indian  powwow  he  found  only 
a  quiet  sunny  glade  in  the  midst  of  a  silent  forest. 
Sergeant  Ferry  waited  behind  him  in  respectful 
silence,  too  wise  to  offer  any  observation  upon  the 


THE    TRAIL-RUNNER  15 

situation.  Hence  in  the  Superintendent  grew  a  deeper 
irritation. 

"Well,  I'll  be !"  He  paused  abruptly.  The 

Superintendent  rarely  used  profanity.  He  reserved 
this  form  of  emphasis  for  supreme  moments.  He  was 
possessed  of  a  dramatic  temperament  and  appreciated 
at  its  full  value  the  effect  of  a  climax.  The  climax 
had  not  yet  arrived,  hence  his  self-control. 

"Exactly  so,"  said  the  Sergeant,  determined  to  be 
agreeable. 

"What's  that!" 

"They  don't  seem  to  be  here,  sir,"  replied  the  Ser- 
geant, staring  up  into  the  trees. 

"Where!"  cried  the  Superintendent,  following  the 
direction  of  the  Sergeant's  eyes.  "Do  you  suppose 
they're  a  lot  of  confounded  monkeys?" 

"Exactly — that  is — no,  sir,  not  at  all,  sir.    But " 

"They  were  to  have  been  here,"  said  the  Superin- 
tendent angrily.  "My  information  was  most  positive 
and  trustworthy." 

"Exactly  so,  sir,"  replied  the  Sergeant. 

"But  they  haven't  been  here  at  all!"  The  Superin- 
dent  impatiently  glared  at  the  Sergeant,  as  if  he 
v,  ore  somehow  responsible  for  this  inexplicable  failure 
upon  the  part  of  the  Indians. 

"Exactly — that  is — no,  sir.  No  sign.  Not  a  sign." 
The  Sergeant  was  most  emphatic. 

"Well,  then,  where  in — where ?  The  Superin- 

(:  ndent  felt  himself  rapidly  approaching  an  emotional 
climax  and  took  himself  back  with  a  jerk.  "Well,"  he 
continued,  with  obvious  self-control,  "let's  look  about 
a  bit." 

With  keen  and  practised  eyes  they  searched  the 


16  THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

glade,  and  the  forest  round  about  it,  and  the  trails 
leading  to  it. 

"Not  a  sign,"  said  the  Superintendent  emphatically, 
"and  for  the  first  time  in  my  experience  Pinault 
is  wrong — the  very  first  time.  He  was  dead  sure. ' ' 

"Pinault — generally  right,  sir,"  observed  the  Ser- 
geant. 

"Always." 

"Exactly  so.    But  this  time " 

"He's  been  fooled,"  declared  the  Superintendent. 
"A  big  sun  dance  was  planned  for  this  identical  spot. 
They  were  all  to  be  here,  every  tribe  represented,  the 
Stonies  even  had  been  drawn  into  it,  some  of  the 
young  bloods  I  suppose.  And,  more  than  that,  the 
Sioux  from  across  the  line." 

"The  Sioux,  eh?"  said  the  Sergeant.  "I  didn't 
know  the  Sioux  were  in  this." 

"Ah,  perhaps  not,  but  I  have  information  that  the 

Sioux — in  fact "  here  the  Superintendent  dropped 

his  voice  and  unconsciously  glanced  about  him,  "the 
Sioux  are  very  much  in  this,  and  old  Copperhead  him- 
self is  the  moving  spirit  of  the  whole  business. ' y 

1 '  Copperhead ! ' '  exclaimed  the  Sergeant  in  an  equally 
subdued  tone. 

"Yes,  sir,  that  old  devil  is  taking  a  hand  in  the 
game.  My  information  was  that  he  was  to  have  been 
here  to-day,  and,  by  the  Lord  Harry !  if  he  had  been  we 
would  have  put  him  where  the  dogs  wouldn  't  bite  him. 
The  thing  is  growing  serious." 

"Serious!"  exclaimed  the  Sergeant  in  unwonted  ex- 
citement. "You  just  bet — that  is  exactly  so,  sir.  Why 
the  Sioux  must  be  good  for  a  thousand. ' ' 

"A    thousand!"     exclaimed    the    Superintendent. 


THE   TEAIL-EUNNEE  17 

"I've  the  most  positive  information  that  the  Sioux 
could  place  in  the  war  path  two  thousand  fighting-men 
inside  of  a  month.  And  old  Copperhead  is  at  the  bot- 
tom of  it  all.  We  want  that  old  snake,  and  we  want 
him  badly. ' '  And  the  Superintendent  swung  on  to  his 
horse  and  set  off  on  the  return  trip. 

"Well,  sir,  we  generally  get  what  we  want  in  that 
way, ' '  volunteered  the  Sergeant,  following  his  chief. 

"We  do — in  the  long  run.  But  in  this  same  old 
Copperhead  we  have  the  acutest  Indian  brain  in  all  the 
western  country.  Sitting  Bull  was  a  fighter,  Copper- 
head is  a  schemer." 

They  rode  in  silence,  the  Sergeant  busy  with  a  dozen 
schemes  whereby  he  might  lay  old  Copperhead  by  the 
heels;  the  Superintendent  planning  likewise.  But  in 
the  Superintendent 's  plans  the  Sergeant  had  no  place. 
The  capture  of  the  great  Sioux  schemer  must  be  en- 
trusted to  a  cooler  head  than  that  of  the  impulsive, 
daring,  loyal-hearted  Sergeant. 


18  THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

CHAPTER   II 
HIS  COUNTKY'S  NEED 

FOR  full  five  miles  they  rode  in  unbroken  silence, 
the  Superintendent  going  before  with  head 
pressed  down  on  his  breast  and  eyes  fixed  upon 
the  winding  trail.  A  heavy  load  lay  upon  him.  True, 
his  immediate  sphere  of  duty  lay  along  the  line  of  the 
Canadian  Pacific  Railway,  but  as  an  officer  of  Her 
Majesty's  North  West  Mounted  Police  he  shared  with 
the  other  officers  of  that  force  the  full  responsibility  of 
holding  in  steadfast  loyalty  the  tribes  of  Western  In- 
dians. His  knowledge  of  the  presence  in  the  country 
of  the  arch-plotter  of  the  powerful  and  warlike.  Sioux 
from  across  the  line  entailed  a  new  burden.  Well  he 
knew  that  his  superior  officer  would  simply  expect  him 
to  deal  with  the  situation  in  a  satisfactory  manner. 
But  how,  was  the  puzzle.  A  mere  handful  of  men  he  had 
under  his  immediate  command  and  these  dispersed  in 
ones  and  twos  along  the  line  of  railway,  and  not  one  of 
them  fit  to  cope  with  the  cunning  and  daring  Sioux. 

With  startling  abruptness  he  gave  utterance  to  his 
thoughts. 

"We  must  get  him — and  quick.  Things  are  moving 
too  rapidly  for  any  delay.  The  truth  is, ' '  he  continued, 
with  a  deepening  impatience  in  his  voice,  ' l  the  truth  is 
we  are  short-handed.  We  ought  to  be  able  to  patrol 
every  trail  in  this  country.  That  old  villain  has  fooled 
us  to-day  and  he'll  fool  us  again.  And  he  has  fooled 
Pinault,  the  smartest  breed  we've  got.  He's  far  too 
clever  to  be  around  loose  among  our  Indians." 

Again  they  rode  along  in  silence,  the  Superintendent 
thinking  deeply. 


HIS    COUNTRY'S    NEED  19 

"I  know  where  he  is!"  he  exclaimed  suddenly,  pull- 
ing up  his  horse.  "I  know  where  he  is — this  blessed 
minute.  He's  on  the  Sun  Dance  Trail  and  in  the  Sun 
Dance  Canyon,  and  they're  having  the  biggest  kind 
of  a  powwow." 

' '  The  Sun  Dance ! ' '  echoed  the  Sergeant.  ' '  By  Jove, 
if  only  Sergeant  Cameron  were  on  this  job !  He  knows 
the  Sun  Dance  inside  and  out,  every  foot." 

The  Superintendent  swung  his  horse  sharply  round 
to  face  his  Sergeant. 

"Cameron!"  he  exclaimed  thoughtfully.  "Cam- 
eron !  I  believe  you  're  right.  He 's  the  man — the  very 
man.  But, ' '  he  added  with  sudden  remembrance,  * '  he 's 
left  the  Force." 

"Left  the  Force,  sir.  Yes,  sir,"  echoed  the  Ser- 
geant with  a  grin.  ' '  He  appeared  to  have  a  fairly  good 
reason,  too." 

"Reason!"  snorted  the  Superintendent.    "Reason! 

What  in f    What  did  he ?    Why  did  he  pull  off 

that  fool  stunt  at  this  particular  time  ?    A  kid  like  him 
has  no  business  getting  married." 

"Mighty  fine  girl,  sir,"  suggested  the  Sergeant 
warmly.  "Mighty  lucky  chap.  Not  many  fellows 
could  resist  such  a  sharp  attack  as  he  had. ' ' 

"Fine  girl!  Oh,  of  course,  of  course — fine  girl  cer- 
tainly. Fine  girl.  But  what's  that  got  to  do  with 
it!" 

"Well,  sir,"  ventured  the  Sergeant  in  a  tone  of 
surprise,  "a  good  deal,  sir,  I  should  say.    By  Jove, 
sir,  I  could  have — if  I  could  have  pulled  it  off  myself— 
but  of  course  she  was  an  old  flame  of  Cameron's  and 
I'd  no  chance." 

"But  the  Service,  sir!"  exclaimed  the  Superinten- 
dent with  growing  indignation.  "The  Service! 


20  THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

"Why!  Cameron  was  right  in  line  for  promotion.  He 
had  the  making  of  a  most  useful  officer.  And  with 
this  trouble  coming  on  it  was — it  was — a  highly  fool- 
ish, indeed  a  highly  reprehensible  proceeding,  sir.'* 
The  Superintendent  was  rapidly  mounting  his  pet 
hobby,  which  was  the  Force  in  which  he  had  the  honor 
to  be  an  officer,  the  far-famed  North  West  Mounted 
Police.  For  the  Service  he  had  sacrificed  everything 
in  life,  ease,  wealth,  home,  yes,  even  wife  and  family, 
to  a  certain  extent.  With  him  the  Force  was  a  pas- 
sion. For  it  he  lived  and  breathed.  That  anyone 
should  desert  it  for  any  cause  soever  was  to  Vrim  an 
act  unexplainable.  He  almost  reckoned  it  treason. 

But  the  question  was  one  that  touched  the  Ser- 
geant as  well,  and  deeply.  Hence,  though  he  well 
knew  his  Chief's  dominant  passion,  he  ventured  an 
argument. 

"A  mighty  fine  girl,  sir,  something  very  special. 
She  saw  me  through  a  mountain  fever  once,  and  I 
know " 

"Oh,  the  deuce  take  it,  Sergeant!  The  girl  is  all 
right.  I  grant  you  all  that.  But  is  that  any  reason 
why  a  man  should  desert  the  Force?  And  now  of  all 
times?  He's  only  a  kid.  So  is  she.  She  can't  be 
twenty-five. ' ' 

"Twenty-five?  Good  Lord,  no!"  exclaimed  the 
shocked  Sergeant.  "She  isn't  a  day  over  twenty. 
Why,  look  at  her.  She's " 

"Oh,  tut-tut!  If  she's  twenty  it  makes  it  all  the 
worse.  Why  couldn't  they  wait  till  this  fuss  was 
over?  Why,  sir,  when  I  was  twenty "  The  Su- 
perintendent paused  abruptly. 

"Yes,  sir?"  The  Sergeant's  manner  was  respect- 
ful and  expectant. 


HIS   COUNTRY'S    NEED  21 

" Never  mind,"  said  the  Superintendent.  "Why 
rash  the  thing,  I  say?" 

"Well,  sir,  I  did  hear  that  there  was  a  sudden 
change  in  Cameron's  home  affairs  in  Scotland,  sir. 
His  father  died  suddenly,  I  believe.  The  estate  was 
sold  up  and  his  sister,  the  only  other  child,  was  left 
all  alone.  Cameron  felt  it  necessary  to  get  a  home 
-together — though  I  don't  suppose  he  needed  any  ex- 
cuse. Never  saw  a  man  so  hard  hit  myself." 

"Except  yourself,  Sergeant,  eh?"  said  the  Super- 
intendent, relaxing  into  a  grim  smile. 

"Oh,  well,  of  course,  sir,  I'm  not  going  to  deny  it. 
But  you  see,"  continued  the  Sergeant,  his  pride  be- 
ing touched,  "he  had  known  her  down  East — worked 
on  her  father's  farm — young  gentleman — fresh  from 
college — culture,  you  know,  manner — style  and  that 
sort  of  thing — rushed  her  clean  off  her  feet." 

"I  thought  you  said  it  was  Cameron  who  was  the 
one  hard  hit?" 

"So  it  was,  sir.  Hadn't  seen  her  for  a  couple  of 
years  or  so.  Left  her  a  country  lass,  uncouth,  ig- 
norant— at  least  so  they  say." 

"Who  say?" 

"Well,  her  friends — Dr.  Martin  and  the  nurse  at 
the  hospital.  But  I  can't  believe  them,  simply  im- 
possible. That  this  girl  two  years  ago  should  have 
been  an  ignorant,  clumsy,  uncouth  country  lass  is  im- 
possible. However,  Cameron  came  on  her  here,  trans- 
figured, glorified  so  to  speak,  consequently  fell  over 
neck  in  love,  went  quite  batty  in  fact.  A  secret  flame 
apparently  smoldering  all  these  months  suddenly  burst 
into  a  blaze — a  blaze,  by  Jove! — regular  conflagra- 
tion. And  no  wonder,  sir,  when  you  look  at  her,  her 
face,  her  form,  her  style " 


22  THE    SUN   DANCE   TEAIL 

"Oh,  come,  Sergeant,  we'll  move  on.  Let's  keep 
at  the  business  in  hand.  The  question  is  what's  to 
do.  That  old  snake  Copperhead  is  three  hundred 
miles  from  here  on  the  Sun  Dance,  plotting  hell  for 
this  country,  and  we  want  him.  As  you  say,  Cam- 
eron's our  man.  I  wonder,"  continued  the  Superin- 
tendent after  a  pause,  "I  wonder  if  we  could  get 
him." 

"I  should  say  certainly  not!"  replied  the  Sergeant 
promptly.  "He's  only  a  few  months  married,  sir." 

"He  might,"  mused  the  Superintendent,  "if  it 
were  properly  put  to  him.  It  would  be  a  great  thing 
for  the  Service.  He's  the  man.  By  the  Lord  Harry, 
he's  the  only  man!  In  short,"  with  a  resounding 
whack  upon  his  thigh,  "he  has  got  to  come.  The  sit- 
uation is  too  serious  for  trifling." 

"Trifling?"  said  the  Sergeant  to  himself  in  under- 
tone. 

"We'll  go  for  him.  We'll  send  for  him."  The 
Superintendent  turned  and  glanced  at  his  companion. 

"Not  me,  sir,  I  hope.  You  can  quite  see,  sir,  I'd 
be  a  mighty  poor  advocate.  Couldn't  face  those  blue 
eyes,  sir.  They  make  me  grow  quite  weak.  Chills 
and  fever — in  short,  temporary  delirium." 

"Oh,  well,  Sergeant,"  replied  the  Superintendent, 
"if  it's  as  bad  as  that " 

"You  don't  know  her,  sir.  Those  eyes!  They  can 
burn  in  blue  flame  or  melt  in " 

"Oh,  yes,  yes,  I've  no  doubt."  The  Superinten- 
dent's voice  had  a  touch  of  pity,  if  not  contempt. 
"We  won't  expose  you,  Sergeant.  But  all  the  same 
we'll  make  a  try  for  Cameron."  His  voice  grew 
stern.  His  lips  drew  to  a  line.  "And  we'll  get  him." 


HIS   COUNTRY'S    NEED  23 

The  Sergeant's  horse  took  a  sudden  plunge  for- 
ward. 

"Here,  you  beast!"  he  cried,  with  a  fierce  oath. 
"Come  back  here!  What's  the  matter  with  you?" 
He  threw  the  animal  back  on  his  haunches  with  a 
savage  jerk,  a  most  unaccustomed  thing  with  the 
Sergeant. 

"Yes,"  pursued  the  Superintendent,  "the  situation 
demands  it.  Cameron's  the  man.  It's  his  old  stamp- 
ing-ground. He  knows  every  twist  of  its  trails.  And 
he's  a  wonder,  a  genius  for  handling  just  such  a  busi- 
ness as  this." 

The  Sergeant  made  no  reply.  He  was  apparently 
having  some  trouble  with  his  horse. 

"Of  course,"  continued  the  Superintendent,  with 
a  glance  at  his  Sergeant's  face,  "it's  hard  on  her, 
but — "  dismissing  that  feature  of  the  case  lightly — 
"in  a  situation  like  this  everything  must  give  way. 
The  latest  news  is  exceedingly  grave.  The  trouble 
along  the  Saskatchewan  looks  to  me  exceedingly  seri- 
ous. These  half-breeds  there  have  real  grievances. 
I  know  them  well,  excitable,  turbulent  in  their  spirits, 
uncontrollable,  but  easily  handled  if  decently  treated. 
They've  sent  their  petitions  again  and  again  to  Otta- 
wa, and  here  are  these  Members  of  Parliament  mak- 
ing fool  speeches,  and  the  Government  pooh-poohing 
the  whole  movement,  and  meantime  Eiel  orating  and 
organizing. ' ' 

"Riel?    Who's  he?"  inquired  the  Sergeant. 

"Kiel?  You  don't  know  Kiel?  That's  what  comes 
of  being  an  island-bred  Britisher.  You  people  know 
nothing  outside  your  own  little  two  by  four  patch  on 
the  world's  map.  Haven't  you  heard  of  Kiel?" 


24  THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

"Oh,  yes,  by  the  way,  I've  heard  about  the  Johnny. 
Mixed  up  in  something  before  in  this  country,  wasn't 
he?" 

"Well,  rather!  The  rebel  leader  of  1870.  Cost  us 
some  considerable  trouble,  too.  There's  bound  to  be 
mischief  where  that  hair-brained  four-flusher  gets  a 
crowd  to  listen  to  him.  For  egoist  though  he  is,  he 
possesses  a  wonderful  power  over  the  half-breeds. 
He  knows  how  to  work.  And  somehow,  too,  they're 
suspicious  of  all  Canadians,  as  they  call  the  new  set- 
tlers from  the  East,  ready  to  believe  anything  they're 
told,  and  with  plenty  of  courage  to  risk  a  row." 

"What's  the  row  about,  anyway?"  inquired  the 
Sergeant.  "I  could  never  quite  get  it." 

"Oh,  there  are  many  causes.  These  half-breeds 
are  squatters,  many  of  them.  They  have  introduced 
the  same  system  of  survey  on  the  Saskatchewan  as 
their  ancestors  had  on  the  St.  Lawrence,  and  later 
on  the  Bed,  the  system  of  ' Strip  Farms.'  That  is, 
farms  with  narrow  fronts  upon  the  river  and  extend- 
ing back  from  a  mile  to  four  miles,  a  poor  arrange- 
ment for  farming  but  mighty  fine  for  social  purposes. 
I  tell  you,  it  takes  the  loneliness  and  isolation  out 
of  pioneer  life.  I've  lived  among  them,  and  the  strip- 
farm  survey  possesses  distinct  social  advantages. 
You  have  two  rows  of  houses  a  few  rods  apart,  and 
between  them  the  river,  affording  an  ice  roadway  in 
the  winter  and  a  waterway  in  the  summer.  And  to 
see  a  flotilla  of  canoes  full  of  young  people,  with  fid- 
dles and  concertinas  going,  paddle  down  the  river  on 
their  way  to  a  neighbor's  house  for  a  dance,  is  some- 
thing to  remember.  For  my  part  I  don't  wonder 
that  these  people  resent  the  action  of  the  Government 
in  introducing  a  completely  new  survey  without  say- 


HIS   COUNTRY'S   NEED  25 

ing  'by  your  leave.'  There  are  troubles,  too,  about 
their  land  patents." 

"How  many  of  these  half-breeds  are  there  any- 
way?" 

"Well,  only  a  few  hundreds  I  should  say.  But  it 
isn't  the  half-breeds  we  fear.  The  mischief  of  it  is 
they  have  been  sending  runners  all  through  this  coun- 
try to  their  red-skin  friends  and  relatives,  holding 
out  all  sorts  of  promises,  the  restoration  of  their  hunt- 
ing grounds  to  the  Indians,  the  establishing  of  an 
empire  of  the  North,  from  which  the  white  race  shall 
be  excluded.  I've  heard  them.  Just  enough  truth 
and  sense  in  the  whole  mad  scheme  to  appeal  to  the 
Indian  mind.  The  older  men,  the  chiefs,  are  quiet  so 
far,  but  the  young  braves  are  getting  out  of  hand. 
You  see  they  have  no  longer  their  ancient  excitement 
of  war  and  the  chase.  Life  has  grown  monotonous, 
to  the  young  men  especially,  on  the  reserves.  They 
are  chafing  under  control,  and  the  prospect  of  a  fight 
appeals  to  them.  In  every  tribe  sun  dances  are  being 
held,  braves  are  being  made,  and  from  across  the 
other  side  weapons  are  being  introduced.  And  now 
that  this  old  snake  Copperhead  has  crossed  the  line 
the  thing  takes  an  ugly  look.  He's  undeniably  brainy, 
a  fearless  fighter,  an  extraordinary  organizer,  has 
great  influence  with  his  own  people  and  is  greatly 
respected  among  our  tribes.  If  an  Indian  war  should 
break  out  with  Copperhead  running  it — well—  — ! 
That's  why  it's  important  to  get  this  old  devil.  And 
it  must  be  done  quietly.  Any  movement  in  force  on 
our  part  would  set  the  prairie  on  fire.  The  thing  has 
got  to  be  done  by  one  or  two  men.  That's  why  we 
must  have  Cameron." 


26  THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

In  spite  of  his  indignation  the  Sergeant  was  im- 
pressed. Never  had  he  heard  his  Chief  discourse  at 
such  length,  and  never  had  he  heard  his  Chief  use 
the  word  "danger."  It  began  to  dawn  upon  his  mind 
that  possibly  it  might  not  be  such  a  crime  as  he  had 
at  first  considered  it  to  lure  Cameron  away  from  his 
newly  made  home  and  his  newly  wedded  wife  to  do 
this  bit  of  service  for  his  country  in  an  hour  of  serious 
if  not  desperate  need. 


A-FISHING   WE   WILL    GO          27 
CHAPTER   III 

A-FISHING  WE   WILL  GO 

BUT  Sergeant  Cameron  was  done  with  the  Ser- 
vice for  ever.  An  accumulating  current  of 
events  had  swept  him  from  his  place  in  the 
Force,  as  an  unheeding  traveler  crossing  a  mountain 
torrent  is  swept  from  his  feet  by  a  raging  freshet.  The 
sudden  blazing  of  his  smoldering  love  into  a  consuming 
flame  for  the  clumsy  country  girl,  for  whom  two  years 
ago  he  had  cherished  a  pitying  affection,  threw  up 
upon  the  horizon  of  his  life  and  into  startling  clearness 
a  new  and  absorbing  objective.  In  one  brief  quarter 
of  an  hour  his  life  had  gathered  itself  into  a  single 
purpose;  a  purpose,  to  wit,  to  make  a  home  to  which 
he  might  bring  this  girl  he  had  come  to  love  with  such 
swift  and  fierce  intensity,  to  make  a  home  for  her 
where  she  could  be  his  own,  and  f  or%  ever.  All  the 
vehement  passion  of  his  Highland  nature  was  concen- 
trated upon  the  accomplishing  of  this  purpose.  That 
he  should  ever  have  come  to  love  Mandy  Haley,  the 
overworked  slattern  on  her  father's  Ontario  farm, 
while  a  thing  of  wonder,  was  not  the  chief  wonder  to 
him.  His  wonder  now  was  that  he  should  ever  have 
been  so  besottedly  dull  of  wit  and  so  stupidly  unseeing 
as  to  allow  the  unlovely  exterior  of  the  girl  to  hide  the 
radiant  soul  within.  That  in  two  brief  years  she  had 
transformed  herself  into  a  woman  of  such  perfectly 
balanced  efficiency  in  her  profession  as  nurse,  and  a 
creature  of  such  fascinating  comeliness,  was  only  an- 
other proof  of  his  own  insensate  egotism,  and  another 
proof,  too,  of  those  rare  powers  that  slumbered  in  the 
girl's  soul  unknown  to  herself  and  to  her  world.  Small 


28  THE   SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 

wonder  that  with  her  unfolding  Cameron's  whole  world 
should  become  new. 

Hard  upon  this  experience  the  unexpected  news  of 
his  father's  death  and  of  the  consequent  winding  up 
of  the  tangled  affairs  of  the  estate  threw  upon  Cam- 
eron the  responsibility  of  caring  for  his  young  sister, 
now  left  alone  in  the  Homeland,  except  for  distant 
kindred  of  whom  they  had  but  slight  knowledge. 

A  home  was  immediately  and  imperatively  neces- 
sary, and  hence  he  must  at  once,  as  a  preliminary,  be 
married.  Cameron  fortunately  remembered  that 
young  Eraser,  whom  he  had  known  in  his  Fort 
Macleod  days,  was  dead  keen  to  get  rid  of  the  "Big 
Horn  Ranch."  This  ranch  lay  nestling  cozily  among 
the  foothills  and  in  sight  of  the  towering  peaks  of  the 
Rockies,  and  was  so  well  watered  with  little  lakes  and 
streams  that  when  his  eyes  fell  upon  it  Cameron  was 
conscious  of  a  sharp  pang  of  homesickness,  so  sugges- 
tive was  it  of  the  beloved  Glen  Cuagh  Oir  of  his  own 
Homeland.  There  would  be  a  thousand  pounds  or 
more  left  from  his  father's  estate.  Everybody  said  it 
was  a  safe,  indeed  a  most  profitable  investment. 

A  week's  leave  of  absence  sufficed  for  Cameron  to 
close  the  deal  with  Eraser,  a  reckless  and  gallant 
young  Highlander,  whose  chivalrous  soul,  kindling  at 
Cameron's  romantic  story,  prompted  a  generous  re- 
duction in  the  price  of  the  ranch  and  its  outfit  com- 
plete. Hence  when  Mandy's  shrewd  and  experienced 
head  had  scanned  the  contract  and  cast  up  the  inven- 
tory of  steers  and  horses,  with  pigs  and  poultry  thrown 
in,  and  had  found  nothing  amiss  with  the  deal — indeed 
it  was  rather  better  than  she  had  hoped — there  was 
no  holding  of  Cameron  any  longer.  Married  he  would 
be  and  without  delay. 


A-FISHING   WE   WILL    GO          29 

The  only  drag  in  the  proceedings  had  come  from  the 
Superintendent,  who,  on  getting  wind  of  Cameron's 
purpose,  had  thought,  by  promptly  promoting  him 
from  Corporal  to  Sergeant,  to  tie  him  more  tightly 
to  the  Service  and  hold  him,  if  only  for  a  few  months, 
"till  this  trouble  should  blow  over."  But  Cameron 
knew  of  no  trouble.  The  trouble  was  only  in  the  Super- 
intendent's mind,  or  indeed  was  only  a  shrewd  scheme 
to  hold  Cameron  to  his  duty.  A  rancher  he  would  be, 
and  a  famous  rancher's  wife  Mandy  would  make.  And 
as  for  his  sister  Moira,  had  she  not  highly  specialized 
in  pigs  and  poultry  on  the  old  home  farm  at  the  Cuagh 
OiH  There  was  no  stopping  the  resistless  rush  of  his 
passionate  purpose.  Everything  combined  to  urge 
him  on.  Even  his  college  mate  and  one  time  football 
comrade  of  the  old  Edinburgh  "days,  the  wise,  cool- 
headed  Dr.  Martin,  now  in  charge  of  the  Canadian 
Pacific  Railway  Hospital,  as  also  the  little  nurse  who, 
through  those  momentous  months  of  Mandy 's  trans- 
forming, had  been  to  her  guide,  philosopher  and  friend, 
both  had  agreed  that  there  was  no  good  reason  for 
delay.  True,  Cameron  had  no  means  of  getting  inside 
the  doctor's  mind  and  therefore  had  no  knowledge  of 
the  vision  that  came  nightly  to  torment  him  in  his 
dreams  and  the  memory  that  came  daily  to  haunt  his 
waking  hours ;  a  vision  and  a  memory  of  a  trim  little 
figure  in  a  blue  serge  gown,  of  eyes  brown,  now  sunny 
with  laughing  light,  now  soft  with  unshed  tears,  of 
hair  that  got  itself  into  a  most  bewildering  perplexity 
of  waves  and  curls,  of  lips  curving  deliciously,  of  a 
voice  with  a  wonderfully  soft  Highland  accent;  the 
vision  and  memory  of  Moira,  Cameron's  sister,  as  she 
had  appeared  to  him  in  the  Glen  Cuagh  Oir  at  her 
father's  door.  Had  Cameron  known  of  this  torment- 


30  THE   SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

ing  vision  and  this  haunting  memory  he  might  have 
questioned  the  perfect  sincerity  of  his  friend's  counsel. 
But  Dr.  Martin  kept  his  secret  well  and  none  shared 
with  him  his  visions  and  his  dreams. 

So  there  had  been  only  the  Superintendent  to  op- 
pose. 

Hence,  because  no  really  valid  objection  could  be 
offered,  the  marriage  was  made.  And  with  much 
shrieking  of  engines — it  seemed  as  if  all  the  engines 
with  their  crews  within  a  hundred  miles  had  gathered 
to  the  celebration — with  loud  thunder  of  exploding 
torpedoes,  with  tumultuous  cheering  of  the  construc- 
tion gangs  hauled  thither  on  gravel  trains,  with  con- 
gratulations of  railroad  officials  and  of  the  doctor, 
with  the  tearful  smiles  of  the  little  nurse,  and  with 
grudging  but  finally  hearty  good  wishes  of  the  Super- 
intendent, they  had  ridden  off  down  the  Kootenay 
Trail  for  their  honeymoon,  on  their  way  to  the  Big 
Horn  Eanch  some  hundreds  of  miles  across  the  moun- 
tains. 

There  on  the  Big  Horn  Eanch  through  the  long 
summer  days  together  they  rode  the  ranges  after  the 
cattle,  cooking  their  food  in  the  open  and  camping  un- 
der the  stars  where  night  found  them,  care-free  and 
deeply  happy,  drinking  long  full  draughts  of  that 
mingled  wine  of  life  into  which  health  and  youth  and 
love  and  God's  sweet  sun  and  air  poured  their  rare 
vintage.  The  world  was  far  away  and  quite  forgotten. 

Summer  deepened  into  autumn,  the  fall  round-up 
was  approaching,  and  there  came  a  September  day 
of  such  limpid  light  and  such  nippy  sprightly  air  as 
to  suggest  to  Mandy  nothing  less  than  a  holiday. 

" Let's  strike!"  she  cried  to  her  husband,  as  she 
looked  out  toward  the  rolling  hills  and  the  overtopping 


A-FISHING   WE   WILL    GO          31 

peaks  shining  clear  in  the  early  morning  light.  "Let's 
strike  and  go  a-fishing. " 

Her  husband  let  his  eyes  wander  over  the  full  curves 
of  her  strong  and  supple  body  and  rest  upon  the  face, 
brown  and  wholesome,  lit  with  her  deep  blue  eyes  and 
crowned  with  the  red-gold  masses  of  her  hair,  and 
exclaimed : 

"You  need  a  holiday,  Mandy.  I  can  see  it  in  the 
drooping  lines  of  your  figure,  and  in  the  paling  of 
your  cheeks.  In  short,"  moving  toward  her,  "you 
need  some  one  to  care  for  you." 

"Xot  just  at  this  moment,  young  man,"  she 
cried,  darting  round  the  table.  "But,  come,  what 
do  you  say  to  a  day's  fishing  away  up  the  Little 
Horn?" 

"The  Little  Horn!" 

"Yes,  you  know  the  little  creek  running  into  the 
Big  Horn  away  up  the  gulch  where  we  went  one  day 
in  the  spring.  You  said  there  were  fish  there." 

"Yes,  but  why  ' Little  Horn,'  pray?  And  who  calls 
it  so?  I  suppose  you  know  that  the  Big  Horn  gets  its 
name  from  the  Big  Horn,  the  mountain  sheep  that 
once  roamed  the  rocks  yonder,  and  in  that  sense  there's 
no  Little  Horn." 

"Well,  'Little  Horn'  I  call  it,"  said  his  wife,  "and 
shall.  And  if  the  big  stream  is  the  Big  Horn,  surely 
the  little  stream  should  be  the  Little  Horn.  But  what 
about  the  fishing?  Is  it  a  go?" 

"Well,  rather!  Get  the  grub,  as  your  Canadian 
speech  hath  it." 

"My  Canadian  speech!"  echoed  his  wife  scornfully. 
"You're  just  as  much  Canadian  as  I  am." 

"And  I  shall  get  the  ponies.  Half  an  hour  will  do 
for  me." 


32  THE   SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 

"And  less  for  me,"  cried  Handy,  dancing  off  to 
her  work. 

And  she  was  right.  For,  clever  housekeeper  that 
she  was,  she  stood  with  her  hamper  packed  and  the 
fishing  tackle  ready  long  before  her  husband  appeared 
with  the  ponies. 

The  trail  led  steadily  upward  through  winding  val- 
leys, but  for  the  most  part  along  the  Big  Horn,  till 
as  it  neared  a  scraggy  pine-wood  it  bore  sharply  to  the 
left,  and,  clambering  round  an  immense  shoulder  of 
rock,  it  emerged  upon  a  long  and  comparatively  level 
ridge  of  land  that  rolled  in  gentle  undulations  down 
into  a  wide  park-like  valley  set  out  with  clumps  of 
birch  and  poplar,  with  here  and  there  the  shimmer 
of  a  lake  showing  between  the  yellow  and  brown  of 
the  leaves. 

'  *  Oh,  what  a  picture ! ' '  cried  Mandy,  reining  up  her 
pony.  "What  a  ranch  that  would  make,  Allan!  Who 
owns  it?  Why  did  we  never  come  this  way  before?" 

"Piegan  Reserve,"  said  her  husband  briefly. 

"How  beautiful!  How  did  they  get  this  particular 
bit!" 

"They  gave  up  a  lot  for  it,"  said  Cameron  drily. 

"But  think,  such  a  lovely  bit  of  country  for  a  few 
Indians!  How  many  are  there?" 

'  *  Some  hundreds.  Five  hundred  or  so.  And  a  tricky 
bunch  they  are.  They're  over-fond  of  cattle  to  be 
really  desirable  neighbors." 

"Well,  I  think  it  rather  a  pity!" 

"Look  yonder!"  cried  her  husband,  sweeping  his 
arm  toward  the  eastern  horizon.  From  the  height  on 
which  they  stood  a  wonderful  panorama  of  hill  and 
valley,  river,  lake  and  plain  lay  spread  out  before 
them.  "All  that  and  for  nine  hundred  miles  beyond 


A-FISHING   WE   WILL    GO          33 

that  line  these  Indians  and  their  kin  gave  up  to  us 
under  persuasion.  There  was  something  due  them, 
eh?  Let's  move  on." 

For  a  mile  or  more  the  trail  ran  along  the  high 
plateau  skirting  the  Piegan  Eeserve,  where  it  branched 
sharply  to  the  right.  Cameron  paused. 

"You  see  that  trail?"  pointing  to  the  branch  that 
led  to  the  left  and  downward  into  the  valley.  "That 
is  one  of  the  oldest  and  most  famous  of  all  Indian 
trails.  It  strikes  down  through  the  Crow's  Nest  Pass 
and  beyond  the  pass  joins  the  ancient  Sun  Dance  Trail. 
That's  my  old  beat.  And  weird  things  are  a-doing 
along  that  same  old  Sun  Dance  Trail  this  blessed  min- 
ute or  I  miss  my  guess.  I  venture  to  say  that  this 
old  trail  has  often  been  marked  with  blood  from  end 
to  end  in  the  fierce  old  days." 

"Let's  go,"  said  Mandy  t  with  a  shudder,  and,  turn- 
ing her  pony  to  the  right,  she  took  the  trail  that  led 
them  down  from  the  plateau,  plunged  into  a  valley, 
wound  among  rocks  and  thickets  of  pine  till  it  reached 
a  tumbling  mountain  torrent  of  gray-blue  water,  fed 
from  glaciers  high  up  between  the  great  peaks  be- 
yond. 

1 1  My  Little  Horn ! ' '  cried  Mandy  with  delight. 

Down  by  its  rushing  water  they  scrambled  till  they 
came  to  a  sunny  glade  where  the  little  fretful  torrent 
pitched  itself  headlong  into  a  deep  shady  pool,  whence, 
as  if  rested  in  those  quiet  deeps,  it  issued  at  first 
with  gentle  murmuring  till,  out  of  earshot  of  the  pool, 
it  broke  again  into  turbulent  raging,  brawling  its  way 
to  the  Big  Horn  below. 

Mandy  could  hardly  wait  for  the  unloading  and 
tethering  of  the  ponies. 


34  THE   SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 


''Now,"  she  cried,  when  all  was  ready,  "for  my 
very  first  fish.  How  shall  I  fling  this  hook  and  where  f ' ' 

"Try  a  cast  yonder,  just  beside  that  overhanging 
willow.  Don't  splash!  Try  again — drop  it  lightly. 
That's  better.  Don't  tell  me  you've  never  cast  a  fly 
before." 

' l  Never  in  my  life. ' ' 

"Let  it  float  down  a  bit.  Now  back.  Hold  it  up  and 
let  it  dance  there.  I'll  just  have  a  pipe." 

But  next  moment  Cameron's  pipe  was  forgotten. 
"With  a  shout  he  sprang  to  his  wife's  side. 

"By  Jove,  you've  got  him!" 

* l  No  1  No !  Leave  me  alone !  Just  tell  me  what  to 
do.  Go  away!  Don't  touch  me!  Oh-h-h!  He's 
gone ! ' ' 

"Not  a  bit.    Eeel  him  up — reel  him  up  a  little." 

"Oh,  I  can't  reel  the  thing!  Oh!  Oh-h-h!  Is  he 
gone?" 

"Hold  up.  Don't  haul  him  too  quickly — keep  him 
playing.  Wait  till  I  get  the  net. ' '  He  rushed  for  the 
landing  net. 

"Oh,  he's  gone!  He's  gone!  Oh,  I'm  so  mad!" 
She  stamped  savagely  on  the  grass.  * '  He  was  a  mon- 
ster." 

"They  always  are,"  said  her  husband  gravely. 
"The  fellows  that  get  off,  I  mean." 

"Now  you're  just  laughing  at  me,  and  I  won't  have 
it!  I  could  just  sit  down  and  cry!  My  very  first 
fish!" 

"Never  mind,  Mandy,  we'll  get  him  or  just  as  good 
a  one  again." 

"Never!  He'll  never  bite  again.  He  isn't  such  a 
fool." 


A-FISHING   WE   WILL    GO"       35 

"Well,  they  do.  They're  just  like  the  rest  of  us. 
They  keep  nibbling  till  they  get  caught;  else  there 

would  be  no  fun  in  fishing  or  in Now  try  another 

throw — same  place — a  little  farther  down.  Ah !  That 
was  a  fine  cast.  Once  more.  No,  no,  not  that  way. 
Flip  it  lightly  and  if  you  ever  get  a  bite  hold  your  rod 
so.  See?  Press  the  end  against  your  body  so  that 
you  can  reel  your  fish  in.  And  don't  hurry  these  big 
fellows.  You  lose  them  and  you  lose  your  fun." 

"I  don't  want  the  fun,"  cried  Mandy,  "but  I  do 
want  that  fish  and  I'm  going  to  get  him." 

"By  Jove,  I  believe  you  just  will!"  The  young 
man's  dark  eyes  flashed  an  admiring  glance  over  the 
strong,  supple,  swaying  figure  of  the  girl  at  his  side, 
whose  every  move,  as  she  cast  her  fly,  seemed  specially 
designed  to  reveal  some  new  combination  of  the  grace- 
ful curves  of  her  well-knit  body. 

"Keep  flicking  there.  You'll  get  him.  He's  just 
sulking.  If  he  only  knew,  he'd  hurry  up." 

"Knew  what?" 

"Who  was  fishing  for  him." 

"Oh!  Oh!  I've  got  him."  The  girl  was  dancing 
excitedly  along  the  bank.  "  No !  Oh,  what  a  wretch ! 
He's  gone.  Now  if  I  get  him  you  tell  me  what  to 
do,  but  don't  touch  me." 

"All  you  have  to  do  is  to  hold  him  steady  at  the 
first.  Keep  your  line  fairly  tight.  If  he  begins  to 
plunge,  give  him  line.  If  he  slacks,  reel  in.  Keep  him 
nice  and  steady,  just  like  a  horse  on  the  bit." 

'  *  Oh,  why  didn  't  you  tell  me  before  ?  I  know  exactly 
what  that  means — just  like  a  colt,  eh?  I  can  handle 
a  colt." 

"Exactly!  Now  try  lower  down — let  your  fly  float 
down  a  bit — there." 


36  THE   SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

Again  there  was  a  wild  shriek  from  the  girl. 

"Oh,  I've  got  him  sure!    Now  get  the  net." 

"Don't  jump  about  so!  Steady  now — steady — 
that's  better.  Fine!  Fine  work!  Let  him  go  a  bit 
— no,  check — wind  him  up.  Look  out !  Not  too  quick ! 
Fine!  Oh!  Lookout!  Get  him  away  from  that  jam! 
Reel  him  up!  Quick!  Now  play  him!  Let  me  help 
you. ' ' 

"Don't  you  dare  touch  this  rod,  Allan  Cameron,  or 
there'll  be  trouble!" 

"Quite  right — pardon  me — quite  right.  Steady! 
You'll  get  him  sure.  And  he's  a  beauty,  a  perfect 
Rainbow  beauty." 

"Keep  quiet,  now,"  admonished  Mandy.  "Don't 
shout  so.  Tell  me  quietly  what  to  do." 

"Do  as  you  like.  You  can  handle  him.  Just  watch 
and  wait — feel  him  all  the  time.  Ah-h-h !  For  Heav- 
en's  sake  don't  let  him  into  that  jam!  There  he  goes 
up  stream !  That 's  better !  Good ! ' ' 

"Don't  get  so  excited!  Don't  yell  so!"  again  ad- 
monished Mandy.  "Tell  me  quietly." 

"Quietly?  Who's  yelling,  I'd  like  to  know?  Who's 
excited?  I  won't  say  another  word.  I'll  get  the 
landing-net  ready  for  the  final  act." 

"Don't  leave  me!  Tell  me  just  what  to  do.  He's 
getting  tired,  I  think." 

"Watch  him  close.  Wind  him  up  a  bit.  Get  all 
the  line  in  you  can.  Steady !  Let  go !  Let  go !  Let 
him  run!  Now  wind  him  again.  Wait,  hold  him  so, 
just  a  moment — a  little  nearer!  Hurrah!  Hurrah! 
I've  got  him  and  he's  a  beauty — a  perfectly  typical 
Rainbow  trout." 

"Oh,  you  beauty!"  cried  Mandy,  down  on  her  knees 
beside  the  trout  that  lay  napping  on  the  grass.  "What 


A-FISHING  WE   WILL   GO          37 

a  shame !  Oh,  what  a  shame !  Oh,  put  him  in  again, 
Allan,  I  don't  want  him.  Poor  dear,  what  a  shame." 

"But  we  must  weigh  him,  you  see,"  remonstrated 
her  husband.  "And  we  need  him  for  tea,  you  know. 
He  really  doesn't  feel  it  much.  There  are  lots  more. 
Try  another  cast.  I'll  attend  to  this  chap." 

"I  feel  just  like  a  murderer,"  said  Mandy.  "But 
isn't  it  glorious?  Well,  I'll  just  try  one  more. 
Aren't  you  going  to  get  your  rod  out  too?" 

"Well,  rather!  What  a  pool,  all  unspoiled,  all  un- 
fished!" 

"Does  no  one  fish  up  here?" 

"Yes,  the  Police  come  at  times  from  the  Fort.  And 
Wyckham,  our  neighbor.  And  old  man  Thatcher,  a 
born  angler,  though  he  says  it's  not  sport,  but  mur- 
der." 

"Why  not  sport?" 

"Why?  Old  Thatcher  said  to  me  one  day,  'Them 
fish  would  climb  a  tree  to  get  at  your  hook.  That  ain't 
no  sport.' 

But  sport,  and  noble  sport,  they  found  it  through 
the  long  afternoon,  so  that,  when  through  the  scraggy 
pines  the  sun  began  to  show  red  in  the  western  sky, 
a  score  or  more  lusty,  glittering,  speckled  Eainbow 
trout  lay  on  the  grass  beside  the  shady  pool. 

Tired  with  their  sport,  they  lay  upon  the  grassy 
sward,  luxuriating  in  the  warm  sun. 

"Now,  Allan,"  cried  Mandy,  "I'll  make  tea  ready 
if  you  get  some  wood  for  the  fire.  You  ought  to  be 
thankful  I  taught  you  how  to  use  the  ax.  Do  you 
remember  ? ' ' 

1 '  Thankful  ?  Well,  I  should  say.  Do  you  remember 
that  day,  Mandy?" 


38  THE   SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

' '  Eemember ! "  cried  the  girl,  with  horror  in  her 
tone.  "Oh,  don't  speak  of  it.  It's  too  awful  to  think 
of." 

"Awful  what?" 

"Ugh!"  she  shuddered,  "I  can't  bear  to  think  of 
it.  I  wish  you  could  forget." 

"Forget  what?" 

"What?  How  can  you  ask?  That  awful,  horrid, 
uncouth,  sloppy  girl."  Again  Mandy  shuddered. 
"Those  hands,  big,  coarse,  red,  ugly." 

"Yes,"  cried  Allan  savagely,  "the  badge  of  slavery 
for  a  whole  household  of  folk  too  ignorant  to  know 
the  price  that  was  being  paid  for  the  service  rendered 
them." 

"And  the  hair,"  continued  Mandy  relentlessly, 
"uncombed,  filthy,  horrid.  And  the  dress,  and — 
and " 

'  *  Stop  it ! "  cried  Allan  peremptorily. 

"No,  let  me  go  on.  The  stupid  face,  the  ignorant 
mind,  the  uncouth  speech,  the  vulgar  manners.  Oh,  I 
loathe  the  picture,  and  I  wonder  you  can  ever  bear  to 
look  at  her  again.  And,  oh,  I  wish  you  could  forget. ' ' 

"Forget!"  The  young  man's  lean,  swarthy  face 
seemed  to  light  up  with  the  deep  glowing  fires  in  his 
dark  eyes.  His  voice  grew  vibrant.  "Forget!  Never 
while  I  live.  Do  you  know  what  I  remember  ? ' ' 

"Ah,  spare  me ! ' '  moaned  his  wife,  putting  her  hands 
over  his  mouth. 

"Do  you  know  what  7  remember?"  he  repeated, 
pulling  her  hands  away  and  holding  them  fast.  "A 
girl  with  hands,  face,  hair,  form,  dress,  manners 
damned  to  coarseness  by  a  cruel  environment?  That? 
No!  No!  To-day  as  I  look  back  I  remember  only 
two  blue  eyes,  deep,  deep  as  wells,  soft,  blue,  and  won- 


A-FISHING   WE   WILL    GO          39 

derfully  kind.  And  I  remember  all  through  those 
days — and  hard  days  they  were  to  a  green  young 
fool  fresh  from  the  Old  Country  trying  to  keep  pace 
with  your  farm-bred  demon- worker  Perkins — I  remem- 
ber all  through  those  days  a  girl  that  never  was  too 
tired  with  her  own  unending  toil  to  think  of  others, 
and  especially  to  help  out  with  many  a  kindness  a 
home-sick,  hand-sore,  foot-sore  stranger  who  hardly 
knew  a  buck-saw  from  a  turnip  hoe,  and  was  equally 
strange  to  the  uses  of  both,  a  girl  that  feared  no 
shame  nor  harm  in  showing  her  kindness.  That's 
what  I  remember.  A  girl  that  made  life  bearable  to 
a  young  fool,  too  proud  to  recognize  his  owTn  limita- 
tions, too  blind  to  see  the  gifts  the  gods  were  flinging 
at  him.  Oh,  what  a  fool  I  was  with  my  silly  pride 
of  family,  of  superior  education  and  breeding,  and 
with  no  eye  for  the  pure  gold  of  as  true  and  loyal  a 
soul  as  ever  offered  itself  in  daily  unmurmuring  sac- 
rifice for  others,  and  without  a  thought  of  sacrifice. 
Fool  and  dolt!  A  self-sufficient  prig!  That's  what  I 
remember. ' ' 

The  girl  tore  her  hands  away  from  him. 

"Ah,  Allan,  my  boy,"  she  cried  with  a  shrill  and 
scornful  laugh  that  broke  at  the  end,  "how  fool- 
ishly you  tall?:!  And  yet  I  love  to  hear  you  talk  so. 
I  love  to  hear  you.  But,  oh,  let  me  tell  you  what  else 
I  remember  of  those  days ! ' ' 

"No,  no,  I  will  not  listen.    It's  all  nonsense." 

* '  Nonsense !  Ah,  Allan  I  Let  me  tell  you  this  once. ' ' 
She  put  her  hands  upon  his  shoulders  and  looked 
steadily  into  his  eyes.  "Let  me  tell  you.  I've  never 
told  you  once  during  these  six  happy  months — oh,  how 
happy,  I  fear  to  think  how  happy,  too  much  joy,  too 
deep,  too  wonderful,  I'm  afraid  sometimes — but  let 


40  THE   SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 

me  tell  yon  what  I  see,  looking  back  into  those  old 
days — how  far  away  they  seem  already  and  not  yet 
three  years  past — I  see  a  lad  so  strange,  so  unlike  all 
I  had  known,  a  gallant  lad,  a  very  knight  for  grace 
and  gentleness,  strong  and  patient  and  brave,  not 
afraid — ah,  that  caught  me — nothing  could  make  him 
afraid,  not  Perkins,  the  brutal  bully,  not  big  Mack 
himself.  And  this  young  lad,  beating  them  all  in  the 
things  men  love  to  do,  running,  the  hammer — and— 
and  fighting  too! — Oh,  laddie,  laddie,  how  often  did 
I  hold  my  hands  over  my  heart  for  fear  it  would  burst 
for  pride  in  you !  How  often  did  I  check  back  my  tears 
for  very  joy  of  loving  you!  How  often  did  I  find 
myself  sick  with  the  agony  of  fear  that  you  should  go 
away  from  me  forever !  And  then  you  went  away,  oh, 
so  kindly,  so  kindly  pitiful,  your  pity  stabbing  my 
heart  with  every  throb.  Why  do  I  tell  you  this  to-day? 
Let  me  go  through  it.  But  it  was  this  very  pity  stab- 
bing me  that  awoke  in  me  the  resolve  that  one  day  you 
would  not  need  to  pity  me.  And  then,  then  I  fled  from 
the  farm  and  all  its  dreadful  surroundings.  And  the 
nurse  and  Dr.  Martin,  oh  how  good  they  were !  And 
all  of  them  helped  me.  They  taught  me.  They  scolded 
me.  They  were  never  tired  telling  me.  And  with  that 
flame  burning  in  my  soul  all  that  outer,  horrid,  awful 
husk  seemed  to  disappear  and  I  escaped,  I  became  all 
new. ' ' 

"You  became  yourself,  yourself,  your  glorious, 
splendid,  beautiful  self ! ' '  shouted  Allan,  throwing  his 
arms  around  her.  "And  then  I  found  you  again. 
Thank  God,  I  found  you !  And  found  you  for  keeps, 
mine  forever.  Think  of  that!" 

"Forever."  Mandy  shuddered  again.  "Oh,  Allan, 
I'm  somehow  afraid.  This  joy  is  too  great." 


A -FISHING  WE   WILL    GO          41 

"Yes,  forever,"  said  Allan  again,  but  more  quietly, 
"for  love  will  last  forever." 

Together  they  sat  upon  the  grass,  needing  no  words 
to  speak  the  joy  that  filled  their  souls  to  overflow- 
ing. Suddenly  Mandy  sprang  to  her  feet. 

"Now,  let  me  go,  for  within  an  hour  we  must  be 
away.  Oh,  what  a  day  we've  had,  Allan,  one  of  the 
very  best  days  in  all  my  life!  You  know  I've  never 
been  able  to  talk  of  the  past  to  you,  but  to-day  some- 
how I  could  not  rest  till  I  had  gone  through  with 
it  all." 

"Yes,  it's  been  a  great  day,"  said  Allan,  "a  won- 
derful day,  a  day  we  shall  always  remember."  Then 
after  a  silence,  "Now  for  a  fire  and  supper.  You're 
right.  In  an  hour  we  must  be  gone,  for  we  are  a  long 
way  from  home.  But,  think  of  it,  Mandy,  we're  going 
home.  I  can't  quite  get  used  to  that!" 

And  in  an  hour,  riding  close  as  lovers  ride,  they 
took  the  trail  to  their  home  ten  miles  away. 


42  THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

CHAPTER   IV 

THE   BIG   CHIEF 

WHEN  on  the  return  journey  they  arrived  upon 
the  plateau  skirting  the  Piegan  Reserve  the 
sun's  rays  were  falling  in  shafts  of  slant- 
ing light  upon  the  rounded  hilltops  before  them  and 
touching  with  purple  the  great  peaks  behind  them. 
The  valleys  were  full  of  shadows,  deep  and  blue.  The 
broad  plains  that  opened  here  and  there  between  the 
rounded  hills  were  still  bathed  in  the  mellow  light  of 
the  westering  sun. 

"We  will  keep  out  a  bit  from  the  Reserve,"  said 
Cameron,  taking  a  trail  that  led  off  to  the  left.  '  *  These 
Piegans  are  none  too  friendly.  I've  had  to  deal  with 
them  a  few  times  about  my  straying  steers  in  a  way 
which  they  are  inclined  to  resent.  This  half-breed 
business  is  making  them  all  restless  and  a  good  deal 
too  impertinent." 

"There's  not  any  real  danger,  is  there?"  inquired 
his  wife.  "The  Police  can  handle  them  quite  well, 
can't  they?" 

* '  If  you  were  a  silly  hysterical  girl,  Mandy,  I  would 
say  *  no  danger '  of  course.  But  the  signs  are  ominous. 
I  don't  fear  anything  immediately,  but  any  moment  a 
change  may  come  and  then  we  shall  need  to  act 
quickly. '  ' 

"What  then?" 

"We  shall  ride  to  the  Fort,  I  can  tell  you,  without 
waiting  to  take  our  stuff  with  us.  I  take  no  chances 
now. ' ' 

"Now?    Meaning?" 


THE   BIG   CHIEF  43 

"Meaning  my  wife,  that's  all.  I  never  thought  to 
fear  an  Indian,  but,  by  Jove!  since  I've  got  you, 
Handy,  they  make  me  nervous." 

"But  these  Piegans  are  such " 

"The  Piegans  are  Indians,  plain  Indians,  deprived 
of  the  privilege  of  war  by  our  North  West  Mounted 
Police  regulations  and  of  the  excitement  of  the  chase 
by  our  ever  approaching  civilization,  and  the  younger 
bloods  would  undoubtedly  welcome  a  'bit  of  a  divar- 
shun,'  as  your  friend  Mike  would  say.  At  present 
the  Indians  are  simply  watching  and  waiting." 

""What  for!" 

"News.  To  see  which  way  the  cat  jumps.  Then 

Steady,  Ginger !  What  the  deuce !  WTioa,  I  say !  Hold 
hard,  Mandy." 

"What's  the  matter  with  them?" 

"There's  something  in  the  bushes  yonder.  Coyote, 
probably.  Listen ! ' ' 

There  came  from  a  thick  clump  of  poplars  a  low, 
moaning  cry. 

"What's  that?"  cried  Mandy.  "It  sounds  like  a 
man. ' ' 

"Stay  where  you  are.    I'll  ride  in." 

In  a  few  moments  she  heard  his  voice  calling. 

"Come  along!    Hurry  up!" 

A  young  Indian  lad  of  about  seventeen ,  ghastly 
under  his  copper  skin  and  faint  from  loss  of  blood,  lay 
with  his  ankle  held  in  a  powerful  wolf-trap,  a  bloody 
knife  at  his  side.  With  a  cry  Mandy  was  off  her  horse 
and  beside  him,  the  instincts  of  the  trained  nurse 
rousing  her  to  action. 

"Good  Heavens!  What  a  mess!"  cried  Cameron, 
looking  helplessly  upon  the  bloody  and  mangled  leg. 


44  THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

"Get  a  pail  of  water  and  get  a  fire  going,  Allan," 
she  cried.  "Quick!" 

"Well,  first  this  trap  ought  to  be  taken  off,  I  should 
say." 

' l  Quite  right, ' '  she  cried.    ' '  Hurry ! ' ' 

Taking  his  ax  from  their  camp  outfit,  he  cut  down 
a  sapling,  and,  using  it  as  a  lever,  soon  released  the 
foot. 

"How  did  all  this  mangling  come?"  said  Mandy, 
gazing  at  the  limb,  the  flesh  and  skin  of  which  were 
hanging  in  shreds  about  the  ankle. 

' l  Cutting  it  off,  weren  't  you  1 ' '  said  Allan. 

The  Indian  nodded. 

Mandy  lifted  the  foot  up. 

"Broken,  I  should  say." 

The  Indian  uttered  not  a  sound. 

' '  Run, ' '  she  continued.  ' '  Bring  a  pail  of  water  and 
get  a  fire  going." 

Allan  was  soon  back  with  the  pail  of  water. 

"Me — water,"  moaned  the  Indian,  pointing  to  the 
pail.  Allan  held  it  to  his  lips  and  he  drank  long  and 
deep.  In  a  short  time  the  fire  was  blazing  and  the  tea 
pail  slung  over  it. 

"If  I  only  had  my  kit  here!"  said  Mandy.  "This 
torn  flesh  and  skin  ought  to  be  all  cut  away." 

"Oh,  I  say,  Mandy,  you  can't  do  that.  We'll  get 
the  Police  doctor!"  said  Allan  in  a  tone  of  horrified 
disgust. 

But  Mandy  was  feeling  the  edge  of  the  Indian's 
knife. 

"Sharp  enough,"  she  said  to  herself.  "These 
ragged  edges  are  just  reeking  with  poison.  Can  you 
stand  it  if  I  cut  these  bits  off  ? "  she  said  to  the  Indian. 


THE   BIG   CHIEF  45 

* '  Huh ! "  he  replied  with  a  grunt  of  contempt.  ' '  No 
hurt." 

"Mandy,  you  can't  do  this!  It  makes  me  sick  to 
see  you,"  said  her  husband. 

The  Indian  glanced  with  scorn  at  him,  caught  the 
knife  out  of  Mandy's  hand,  took  up  a  flap  of  lacerated 
flesh  and  cut  it  clean  away. 

"Huh!   No-ring." 

Mandy  took  the  knife  from  him,  and,  after  boiling 
it  for  a  few  minutes,  proceeded  to  cut  away  the  ragged, 
mangled  flesh  and  skin.  The  Indian  never  winced. 
He  lay  with  eyes  closed,  and  so  pallid  was  his  face 
and  so  perfectly  motionless  his  limbs  that  he  might 
have  been  dead.  With  deft  hands  she  cleansed  the 
wounds. 

"Now,  Allan,  you  must  help  me.  We  must  have 
splints  for  this  ankle." 

"How  would  birch-bark  do?"  he  suggested. 

"No,  it's  too  flimsy." 

' '  The  heavy  inner  rind  is  fairly  stiff. ' '  He  ran  to  a 
tree  and  hacked  off  a  piece. 

"Yes,  that  will  do  splendidly.  Get  some  about  so 
long." 

Half  an  hour's  work,  and  the  wounded  limb  lay 
cleansed,  bandaged,  packed  in  soft  moss  and  bound  in 
splints. 

"That's  great,  Mandy!"  exclaimed  her  husband. 
' '  Even  to  my  untutored  eyes  that  looks  like  an  artistic 
bit  of  work.  You're  a  wonder." 

"Huh!"  grunted  the  Indian.  "Good!"  His  pierc- 
ing black  eyes  were  lifted  suddenly  to  her  face  with 
such  a  look  of  gratitude  as  is  seen  in  the  eyes  of 
dumb  brutes  or  of  men  deprived  of  speech. 


46  THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

' '  Good ! ' '  echoed  Allan.  ' '  You  're  just  right,  my  boy. 
I  couldn't  have  done  it,  I  assure  you." 

"Huh!"  grunted  the  Indian  in  eloquent  contempt. 
"No  good,"  pointing  to  the  man.  "Good,"  pointing 
to  the  woman.  "Me — no — forget."  He  lifted  him- 
self upon  his  elbow,  and,  pointing  to  the  sun  like  a 
red  eye  glaring  in  upon  them  through  a  vista  of  woods 
and  hills,"  said,  "Look — He  see — me  no  forget." 

There  was  something  truly  Hebraic  in  the  exultant 
solemnity  of  his  tone  and  gesture. 

1 *  By  Jove !  He  won 't  either,  I  truly  believe, ' '  said 
Allan.  "You've  made  a  friend  for  life,  Mandy.  Now, 
what's  next?  We  can't  carry  this  chap.  It's  three 
miles  to  their  camp.  We  can't  leave  him  here.  There 
are  wolves  all  around  and  the  brutes  always  attack 
anything  wounded." 

The  Indian  solved  the  problem. 

"Huh!"  he  grunted  contemptuously.  He  took  up 
his  long  hunting-knife.  "Wolf — this!"  He  drove  the 
knife  to  the  hilt  into  the  ground. 

"You  go — my  f adder  come.  T'ree  Indian,"  hold- 
ing up  three  fingers.  "All  right!  Good!"  He  sank 
back  upon  the  ground  exhausted. 

"Come  on  then,  Mandy,  we  shall  have  to  hurry." 

"No,  you  go.    I'll  wait." 

"I  won't  have  that.  It  will  be  dark  soon  and  I 
can't  leave  you  here  alone  with " 

'  *  Nonsense !  This  poor  boy  is  faint  with  hunger  and 
pain.  I  '11  feed  him  while  you  're  gone.  Get  me  a  fresh 
pail  of  water  and  I  can  do  for  myself." 

"Well,"  replied  her  husband  dubiously,  "I'll  get 
you  some  wood  and 

"Come,  now,"  replied  Mandy  impatiently,  "who 
taught  you  to  cut  wood?  I  can  get  my  own  wood. 


THE   BIG   CHIEF  47 

The  main  thing  is  to  get  away  and  get  back.  This 
boy  needs  shelter.  How  long  have  you  been  here?" 
she  inquired  of  the  Indian. 

The  boy  opened  his  eyes  and  swung  his  arm  twice 
from  east  to  west,  indicating  the  whole  sweep  of  the 
sky. 

"Two  days?" 

He  nodded. 

"You  must  be  starving.     Want  to  eat?" 

"Good!" 

"Hurry,  then,  Allan,  with  the  water.  By  the  time 
this  lad  has  been  fed  you  will  be  back." 

It  was  not  long  before  Allan  was  back  with  the 
water. 

"Now,  then,"  he  said  to  the  Indian,  " where 's  your 
camp?" 

The  Indian  with  his  knife  drew  a  line  upon  the 
ground.  "River,"  he  said.  Another  line  parallel, 
"Trail."  Then,  tracing  a  branching  line  from  the 
latter,  turning  sharply  to  the  right,  "Big  Hill,"  he 
indicated.  "Down — down."  Then,  running  the  line 
a  little  farther,  "Here  camp." 

"I  know  the  spot,"  cried  Allan.  "Well,  I'm  off. 
Are  you  quite  sure,  Mandy,  you  don 't  mind  ? ' ' 

"Run  off  with  you  and  get  back  soon.  Go — good- 
by !  Oh !  Stop,  you  foolish  boy !  Aren  't  you  ashamed 
of  yourself  before ?" 

Cameron  laughed  in  happy  derision. 

"Ashamed?  No,  nor  before  his  whole  tribe."  He 
swung  himself  on  his  pony  and  was  off  down  the  trail 
at  a  gallop. 

"You'  man?"  inquired  the  Indian  lad. 

"Yes,"  she  said,  "my  man,"  pride  ringing  in  her 
voice. 


48  THE    SUN   DANCE    TEAIL 


"Huh!    Him  Big  Chief?" 

"Oh,  no!  Yes."  She  corrected  herself  hastily. 
"Big  Chief.  Eanch,  you  know — Big  Horn  Eanch." 

"Huh!"  He  closed  his  eyes  and  sank  back  again 
upon  the  ground. 

"You're  faint  with  hunger,  poor  boy,"  said  Mandy. 
She  hastily  cut  a  large  slice  of  bread,  buttered  it, 
laid  upon  it  some  bacon  and  handed  it  to  him. 

"Here,  take  this  in  the  meantime,"  she  said.  "I'll 
have  your  tea  in  a  jiffy." 

The  boy  took  the  bread,  and,  faint  though  he  was 
with  hunger,  sternly  repressing  all  sign  of  haste,  he 
ate  it  with  grave  deliberation. 

In  a  few  minutes  more  the  tea  was  ready  and 
Mandy  brought  him  a  cup. 

' '  Good ! "  he  said,  drinking  it  slowly. 

"Another?"  she  smiled. 

"Good!"  he  replied,  drinking  the  second  cup  more 
rapidly. 

"Now,  we'll  have  some  fish,"  cried  Mandy  cheerily, 
"and  then  you'll  be  fit  for  your  journey  home." 

In  twenty  minutes  more  she  brought  him  a  frying 
pan  in  which  two  large  beautiful  trout  lay,  browned 
in  butter.  Mandy  caught  the  wolf -like  look  in  his  eyes 
as  they  fell  upon  the  food.  She  cut  several  thick  slices 
of  bread,  laid  them  in  the  pan  with  the  fish  and  turned 
her  back  upon  him.  The  Indian  seized  the  bread,  and, 
noting  that  he  was  unobserved,  tore  it  apart  like  a 
dog  and  ate  ravenously,  the  fish  likewise,  ripping  the 
flesh  off  the  bones  and  devouring  it  like  some  wild 
beast. 

"There,  now,"  she  said,  when  he  had  finished, 
"you've  had  enough  to  keep  you  going.  Indeed,  you 


THE   BIG   CHIEF  49 

have  had  all  that's  good  for  you.    We  don't  want  any 
fever,  so  that  will  do." 

Her  gestures,  if  not  her  words,  he  understood,  and 
again  as  he  watched  her  there  gleamed  in  his  eyes 
that  dumb  animal  look  of  gratitude. 

"Huh!"  he  grunted,  slapping  himself  on  the  chest 
and  arms.  "Good!  Me  strong!  Me  sleep."  He  lay 
back  upon  the  ground  and  in  half  a  dozen  breaths  was 
dead  asleep,  leaving  Mandy  to  her  lonely  watch  in  the 
gathering  gloom  of  the  falling  night. 

The  silence  of  the  woods  deepened  into  a  stillness  so 
profound  that  a  dead  leaf,  fluttering  from  its  twig 
and  rustling  to  the  ground,  made  her  start  in  quick 
apprehension. 

""What  a  fool  I  am!"  she  muttered  angrily.  She 
rose  to  pile  wood  upon  the  fire.  At  her  first  move- 
ment the  Indian  was  broad  awake  and  half  on  his 
knees  with  his  knife  gleaming  in  his  hand.  As  his 
eyes  fell  upon  the  girl  at  the  fire,  with  a  grunt,  half 
of  pain  and  half  of  contempt,  he  sank  back  again  upon 
the  ground  and  was  fast  asleep  before  the  fire  was 
mended,  leaving  Mandy  once  more  to  her  lonely  watch. 

"I  wish  he  would  come,"  she  muttered,  peering  into 
the  darkening  woods  about  her.  A  long  and  distant 
howl  seemed  to  reply  to  her  remark. 

It  was  answered  by  a  series  of  short,  sharp  yelps 
nearer  at  hand. 

"Coyote,"  she  said  disdainfully,  for  she  had  learned 
to  despise  the  cowardly  prairie  wolf. 

But  again  that  long  distant  howl.  In  spite  of  her- 
self she  shuddered.  That  was  no  coyote,  but  a  gray 
timber  wolf. 

"I  wish  Allan  would  come,"  she  said  again,  think- 


50  THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

ing  of  wakening  the  Indian.  But  her  nurse's  instincts 
forbade  her  breaking  his  heavy  sleep. 

"Poor  boy,  he  needs  the  rest!  I'll  wait  a  while 
longer. ' ' 

She  took  her  ax  and  went  bravely  at  some  dead 
wood  lying  near,  cutting  it  for  the  fire.  The  Indian 
never  made  a  sound.  He  lay  dead  in  sleep.  She  piled 
the  wood  on  the  fire  till  the  flames  leaped  high,  shin- 
ing ruddily  upon  the  golden  and  yellow  leaves  of  the 
surrounding  trees. 

But  again  that  long-drawn  howl,  and  quite  near, 
pierced  the  silence  like  the  thrust  of  a  spear.  Before 
she  was  aware  Mandy  was  on  her  feet,  determined  to 
waken  the  sleeping  Indian,  but  she  had  no  more  than 
taken  a  single  step  toward  him  when  he  was  awake 
and  listening  keenly.  A  soft  padding  upon  the  dead 
leaves  could  be  heard  like  the  gentle  falling  of  rain- 
drops. The  Indian  rolled  over  on  his  side,  swept  away 
some  dead  leaves  and  moss,  and  drew  toward  him  a 
fine  Winchester  rifle. 

"Huh!  Wolf,"  he  said,  with  quiet  unconcern. 
"Here,"  he  continued,  pointing  to  a  rock  beside  him. 
Mandy  took  the  place  indicated.  As  she  seated  her- 
self he  put  up  his  hand  with  a  sharp  hiss.  Again  the 
pattering  feet  could  be  heard.  Suddenly  the  Indian 
leaned  forward,  gazing  intently  into  the  gloom  beyond 
the  rim  of  the  firelight,  then  with  a  swift  gliding  move- 
ment he  threw  his  rifle  up  and  fired.  There  was  a 
sharp  yelp,  followed  by  a  gurgling  snarl.  His  shot 
was  answered  by  a  loud  shout. 

"Huh!"  said  the  lad  with  quiet  satisfaction,  holding 
up  one  finger,  "One  wolf.  Big  Chief  come." 

At  the  shout  Mandy  had  sprung  to  her  feet,  answer- 
ing with  a  loud  glad  halloo.  Immediately,  as  if  in 


THE   BIG   CHIEF  51 

response  to  her  call,  an  Indian  swung  his  pony  into 
the  firelight,  slipped  off  and  stood  looking  about  him. 
Straight,  tall  and  sinewy,  he  stood,  with  something 
noble  in  his  face  and  bearing. 

"He  looks  like  a  gentleman,"  was  the  thought  that 
leaped  into  Mandy 's  mind.  A  swift  glance  he  swept 
round  the  circle  of  the  light.  Mandy  thought  she  had 
never  seen  so  piercing  an  eye. 

The  Indian  lad  uttered  a  low  moaning  sound.  With 
a  single  leap  the  man  was  at  his  side,  holding  him  in 
his  arms  and  kissing  him  on  both  cheeks,  with  eager 
guttural  speech.  A  few  words  from  the  lad  and  the 
Indian  was  on  his  feet  again,  his  eyes  gleaming,  but 
his  face  immobile  as  a  death  mask. 

' '  My  boy, ' '  he  said,  pointing  to  the  lad.  * '  My  boy — 
my  papoose."  His  voice  grew  soft  and  tender. 

Before  Mandy  could  reply  there  was  another  shout 
and  Allan,  followed  by  four  Indians,  burst  into  the 
light.  With  a  glad  cry  Mandy  rushed  into  his  arms 
and  clung  to  him. 

1 1  Hello !  What 's  up  ?  Everything  all  right  f ' '  cried 
Allan.  "I  was  a  deuce  of  a  time,  I  know.  Took  the 
wrong  trail.  You  weren't  frightened,  eh?  What? 
What's  happened?"  His  voice  grew  anxious,  then 
stern.  "Anything  wrong?  Did  he ?  Did  any- 
one  ?" 

"No,  no,  Allan !"  cried  his  wife,  still  clinging  to  him. 
"It  was  only  a  wolf  and  I  was  a  little  frightened." 

"A  wolf!"  echoed  her  husband  aghast. 

The  Indian  lad  spoke  a  few  words  and  pointed  to  the 
dark.  The  Indians  glided  into  the  woods  and  in  a  few 
minutes  one  of  them  returned,  dragging  by  the  leg  a 
big,  gray  timber  wolf.  The  lad's  bullet  had  gone  home- 


52  THE   SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 


"And  did  this  brute  attack  you?"  cried  Allan  in 
alarm. 

"No,  no.  I  heard  him  howling  a  long  way  off,  and 
then — then — he  came  nearer,  and — then — I  could  hear 
his  feet  pattering."  Cameron  drew  her  close  to  him. 
"And  then  he  saw  him  right  in  the  dark.  Wasn't  it 
wonderful  ? ' ' 

1 '  In  the  dark  ? ' '  said  Allan,  turning  to  the  lad.  ' '  How 
did  you  do  it?" 

"Huh!"  grunted  the  lad  in  a  tone  of  indifference. 
"See  him  eyes." 

Already  the  Indians  were  preparing  a  stretcher  out 
of  blankets  and  two  saplings.  Here  Mandy  came  to 
their  help,  directing  their  efforts  so  that  with  the 
least  hurt  to  the  boy  he  was  lifted  to  his  stretcher. 

As  they  were  departing  the  father  came  close  to 
Mandy,  and,  holding  out  his  hand,  said  in  fairly  good 
English : 

"You — good  to  my  boy.  You  save  him — to-day. 
All  alone  maybe  he  die.  You  give  him  food — drink. 
Sometime — perhaps  soon — me  pay  you." 

"Oh,"  cried  Mandy,  "I  want  no  pay." 

"No  money — no!"  cried  the  Indian,  with  scorn  in 
his  voice.  "Me  save  you  perhaps — sometime.  Save 
you — save  you,  man.  Me  Big  Chief."  He  drew  him- 
self up  his  full  height.  "Much  Indian  follow  me." 
He  shook  hands  with  Mandy  again,  then  with  her 
husband. 

"Big  Piegan  Chief?"  inquired  her  husband. 

"Piegan!"  said  the  Indian  with  hearty  contempt. 

"Me  no  Piegan — me  Big  Chief.  Me "  He  paused 

abruptly,  turned  on  his  heel  and,  flinging  himself  on 
to  his  pony,  disappeared  in  the  shadows. 


THE   BIG   CHIEF  53 

"He's  jolly  well  pleased  with  himself,  isn't  he?" 
said  Cameron. 

"He's  splendid,"  cried  Mandy  enthusiastically. 
"Why,  he's  just  like  one  of  Cooper's  Indians.  He's 
certainly  like  none  of  the  rest  I've  seen  about  here." 

"That's  true  enough,"  replied  her  husband.  "He's 
no  Piegan.  Who  is  he,  I  wonder?  I  don't  remember 
seeing  him.  He  thinks  no  end  of  himself,  at  any 
rate." 

"And  looks  as  if  he  had  a  right  to." 

"Eight  you  are!  Well,  let's  away.  You  must  be 
dog  tired  and  used  up." 

"Never  a  bit,"  cried  Mandy.  "I'm  fresh  as  a 
daisy.  What  a  wonderful  ending  to  a  wonderful  day ! ' ' 

They  extinguished  the  fire  carefully  and  made  their 
way  out  to  the  trail. 

But  the  end  of  this  wonderful  day  had  not  yet  come. 


54  THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

CHAPTER   V 

THE    ANCIENT    SACRIFICE 

THE  moon  was  riding  high  in  the  cloudless  blue 
of  the  heavens,  tricked  out  with  faintly  shining 
stars,  when  they  rode  into  the  "corral"  that 
surrounded  the  ranch  stable.  A  horse  stood  tethered 
at  the  gate. 

"Hello,  a  visitor!"  cried  Cameron.  "A  Police 
horse!"  his  eyes  falling  upon  the  shining  accouter- 
ments. 

"A  Policeman!"  echoed  Mandy,  a  sudden  forebod- 
ing at  her  heart.  "What  can  he  want?" 

"Me,  likely,"  replied  her  husband  with  a  laugh, 
"though  I  can't  think  for  which  of  my  crimes  it  is. 
It 's  Inspector  Dickson,  by  his  horse.  You  know  him, 
Mandy,  my  very  best  friend. ' ' 

"What  does  he  want,  Allan?"  said  Mandy,  anxiety 
in  her  voice. 

"Want?  Any  one  of  a  thousand  things.  You  run 
in  and  see  while  I  put  up  the  ponies." 

"I  don't  like  it,"  said  Mandy,  walking  with  him 
toward  the  stable.  "Do  you  know,  I  feel  there  is 
something — I  have  felt  all  day  a  kind  of  dread 
that " 

"Nonsense,  Mandy!  You're  not  that  style  of  girl. 
Run  away  into  the  house." 

But  still  Mandy  waited  beside  him. 

"We've  had  a  great  day,  Allan,"  she  said  again. 
"Many  great  days,  and  this,  one  of  the  best.  What- 
ever comes  nothing  can  take  those  happy  days  from 
us. ' '  She  put  her  arms  about  his  neck  and  drew  him 
toward  her.  "I  don't  know  why,  Allan,  I  know  it's 


THE   ANCIENT    SACEIFICE        55 

foolish,  but  I'm  afraid,"  she  whispered,  "I'm  afraid." 

"Now,  Mandy,"  said  her  husband,  with  his  arms 
round  about  her,  "don't  say  you're  going  to  get  like 
other  girls,  hysterical  and  that  sort  of  thing.  You 
are  just  over- tired.  We've  had  a  big  day,  but  an  ex- 
hausting day,  an  exciting  day.  What  with  that  Piegan 
and  the  wolf  business  and  all,  you  are  done  right  up. 
So  am  I  and — by  Jove !  That  reminds  me,  I  am  dead 
famished. ' ' 

No  better  word  could  he  have  spoken. 

"You  poor  boy,"  she  cried.  "I'll  have  supper 
ready  by  the  time  you  come  in.  I  am  silly,  but  now 
it's  all  over.  I  shall  go  in  and  face  the  Inspector 
and  dare  him  to  arrest  you,  no  matter  what  you  have 
done." 

"That's  more  like  the  thing!  That's  more  like  my 
girl.  I  shall  be  with  you  in  a  very  few  minutes.  He 
can't  take  us  both,  can  he?  Bun  in  and  smile  at 
him." 

Mandy  found  the  Inspectoi  in  the  cozy  ranch  kitchen, 
calmly  smoking  his  pipe,  and  deep  in  the  London 
Graphic.  As  she  touched  the  latch  he  sprang  to  his 
feet  and  saluted  in  his  best  style. 

"Never  heard  you  ride  up,  Mrs.  Cameron,  I  assure 
you.  You  must  think  me  rather  cool  to  sit  tight  here 
and  ignore  your  coming." 

"I  am  very  glad  to  see  you,  Inspector  Dickson,  and 
Allan  will  be  delighted.  He  is  putting  up  your  horse. 
You  will  of  course  stay  the  night  with  us." 

"Oh,  that's  awfully  kind,  but  I  really  can't,  you 
know.  I  shall  tell  Cameron."  He  took  his  hat  from 
the  peg. 

"We  should  be  delighted  if  you  could  stay  with  us. 


56  THE   SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 

We  see  very  few  people  and  you  have  not  been  very 
neighborly,  now  confess." 

"I  have  not  been,  and  to  my  sorrow  and  loss.  If 
any  man  had  told  me  that  I  should  have  been  just  five 
weeks  to  a  day  within  a  few  hours'  ride  of  my  friend 
Cameron,  not  to  speak  of  his  charming  wife,  without 
visiting  him,  well  I  should  have — well,  no  matter — to 
my  joy  I  am  here  to-night.  But  I  can't  stay  this  trip. 
We  are  rather  hard  worked  just  now,  to  tell  the  truth. ' ' 

"Hard  worked?"  she  asked. 

"Yes.  Patrol  work  rather  heavy.  But  I  must  stop 
Cameron  in  his  hospitable  design,"  he  added,  as  he 
passed  out  of  the  door. 

It  was  a  full  half  hour  before  the  men  returned,  to 
find  supper  spread  and  Mandy  waiting.  It  was  a  large 
and  cheerful  apartment  that  did  both  for  kitchen  and 
living  room.  The  sides  were  made  of  logs  hewn 
smooth,  plastered  and  whitewashed.  The  oak  joists 
and  planking  above  were  stained  brown.  At  one  end 
of  the  kitchen  two  doors  led  to  as  many  rooms,  at 
the  other  a  large  stone  fireplace,  with  a  great  slab  for 
mantelpiece.  On  this  slab  stood  bits  of  china  bric-a- 
brac,  and  what  not,  relics  abandoned  by  the  gallant 
and  chivalrous  Fraser  for  the  bride  and  her  house 
furnishing.  The  prints,  too,  upon  the  wall,  hunting 
scenes  of  the  old  land,  sea-scenes,  moorland  and  wild 
cattle,  with  many  useful  and  ornamental  bits  of  fur- 
niture, had  all  been  handed  over  with  true  Highland 
generosity  by  the  outgoing  owner. 

In  the  fireplace,  for  the  night  had  a  touch  of  frost 
in  it,  a  log  fire  blazed  and  sparked,  lending  to  the 
whole  scene  an  altogether  delightful  air  of  comfort. 

"I  say,  this  does  look  jolly!"  cried  the  Inspector 
as  he  entered.  '  *  Cameron,  you  lucky  dog,  do  you  really 


THE   ANCIENT    SACRIFICE        57 

imagine  you  know  how  jolly  well  off  you  are,  coddled 
thus  in  the  lap  of  comfort  and  surrounded  with  all 
the  enervating  luxuries  of  an  effete  and  forgotten  civ- 
ilization? Come  now,  own  up,  you  are  beginning  to 
take  this  thing  as  a  matter  of  course." 

But  Cameron  stood  with  his  back  to  the  light,  busy- 
ing himself  with  his  fishing  tackle  and  fish,  and  ignor- 
ing the  Inspector's  cheerful  chatter.  And  thus  he  re- 
mained without  a  word  while  the  Inspector  talked  on 
in  a  voluble  flow  of  small  talk  quite  unusual  with  him. 

Throughout  the  supper  Cameron  remained  silent, 
rallying  spasmodically  with  gay  banter  to  the  Inspec- 
tor's chatter,  or  answering  at  random,  but  always  fall- 
ing silent  again,  and  altogether  was  so  unlike  himself 
that  Mandy  fell  to  wondering,  then  became  watchful, 
then  anxious.  At  length  the  Inspector  himself  fell 
silent,  as  if  perceiving  the  uselessness  of  further  pre- 
tense. 

"What  is  it,  Allan?"  said  Mandy  quietly,  when  si- 
lence had  fallen  upon  them  all.  "You  might  as  well 
let  me  know." 

"Tell  her,  for  God's  sake,"  said  her  husband  to  the 
Inspector. 

"What  is  it?"  inquired  Mandy. 

The  Inspector  handed  her  a  letter. 

"From  Superintendent  Strong  to  my  Chief,"  he 
said. 

She  took  it  and  as  she  read  her  face  went  now  white 
with  fear,  now  red  with  indignation.  At  length  she 
flung  the  letter  down. 

"What  a  man  he  is  to  be  sure!"  she  cried  scorn- 
fully. "And  what  nonsense  is  this  he  writes.  With  all 
his  men  and  officers  he  must  come  for  my  husband! 


58  THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

What  is  he  doing?  And  all  the  others?  It's  just  his 
own  stupid  stubbornness.  He  always  did  object  to  our 
marriage." 

The  Inspector  was  silent.  Cameron  was  silent  too. 
His  boyish  face,  for  he  was  but  a  lad,  seemed  to  have 
grown  old  in  those  few  minutes.  The  Inspector  wore 
an  ashamed  look,  as  if  detected  in  a  crime. 

"And  because  he  is  not  clever  enough  to  catch  this 
man  they  must  come  for  my  husband  to  do  it  for  them. 
He  is  not  a  Policeman.  He  has  nothing  to  do  with  the 
Force." 

And  still  the  Inspector  sat  silent,  as  if  convicted  of 
both  crime  and  folly. 

At  length  Cameron  spoke. 

"It  is  quite  impossible,  Inspector.  I  can't  do  it 
You  quite  see  how  impossible  it  is. ' ' 

"Most  certainly  you  can't,"  eagerly  agreed  the  In- 
spector. "I  knew  from  the  first  it  was  a  piece  of — 
sheer  absurdity — in  fact  brutal  inhumanity.  I  told 
the  Commissioner  so." 

"It  isn't  as  if  I  was  really  needed,  you  know.  The 
Superintendent's  idea  is,  as  you  say,  quite  absurd." 

The  Inspector  gravely  nodded. 

"You  don't  think  for  a  moment,"  continued  Cam- 
eron, "there  is  any  need — any  real  need  I  mea»— 
for  me  to "  Cameron's  voice  died  away. 

The  Inspector  hesitated  and  cleared  his  throat. 

"Well — of  course,  we  are  desperately  short-handed, 
you  know.  Every  man  is  overworked.  Every  reserve 
has  to  be  closely  patroled.  Every  trail  ought  to  be 
watched.  Runners  are  coming  in  every  day.  We 
ought  to  have  a  thousand  men  instead  of  five  hundred, 
this  very  minute.  Of  course  one  can  never  tell.  The 
chances  are  this  will  all  blow  over." 


THE   ANCIENT    SACEIFICE        59 

"Certainly,"  said  Cameron.  " We've  heard  these 
rumors  for  the  past  year." 

"Of  course,"  agreed  the  Inspector  cheerfully. 

"But  if  it  does  not,"  asked  Mandy,  suddenly  facing 
the  Inspector,  "what  then!" 

"If  it  does  not!" 

"If  it  does  not!"  she  insisted. 

The  Inspector  appeared  to  turn  the  matter  over  in 
his  mind. 

"Well,"  he  said  slowly  and  thoughtfully,  "if  it  doee 
not  there  will  be  a  deuce  of  an  ugly  time." 

"What  do  you  mean!" 

The  Inspector  shrugged  his  shoulders.  But  Mandy 
waited,  her  eyes  fixed  on  his  face  demanding  answer. 

"Well,  there  are  some  hundreds  of  settlers  and  their 
families  scattered  over  this  country,  and  we  can  hardly 
protect  them  all.  But,"  he  added  cheerfully,  as  if 
dismissing  the  subject,  "we  have  a  trick  of  worrying 
through. ' ' 

Mandy  shuddered.  One  phrase  in  the  Superintend- 
ent's letter  to  the  Commissioner  which  she  had  just 
read  kept  hammering  upon  her  brain,  "Cameron  is 
the  man  and  the  only  man  for  the  job." 

They  turned  the  talk  to  other  things,  but  the  sub- 
ject would  not  be  dismissed.  Like  the  ghost  at  the 
feast  it  kept  ever  returning.  The  Inspector  retailed 
the  most  recent  rumors,  and  together  he  and  his  host 
weighed  their  worth.  The  Inspector  disclosed  the 
Commissioner's  plans  as  far  as  he  knew  them.  These, 
too,  were  discussed  with  approval  or  condemnation. 
The  consequences  of  an  Indian  uprising  were  hinted 
at,  but  quickly  dropped.  The  probabilities  of  such  an 
uprising  were  touched  upon  and  pronounced  somewhat 
slight. 


60  THE    SUN   DANCE    TEAIL 

But  somehow  to  the  woman  listening  as  in  a  maze 
this  pronouncement  and  all  the  reassuring  talk  rang 
hollow.  She  sat  staring  at  the  Inspector  with  eyes 
that  saw  him  not.  What  she  did  see  was  a  picture 
out  of  an  old  book  of  Indian  war  days  which  she  had 
read  when  a  child,  a  smoking  cabin,  with  mangled 
forms  of  women  and  children  lying  in  the  blackened 
embers.  By  degrees,  slow,  painful,  but  relentlessly 
progressive,  certain  impressions,  at  first  vague  and 
passionately  resisted,  were  wrought  into  convictions 
in  her  soul.  First,  the  Inspector,  in  spite  of  his  light 
talk,  was  undeniably  anxious,  and  in  this  anxiety  her 
husband  shared.  Then,  the  Force  was  clearly  inade- 
quate to  the  duty  required  of  it.  At  this  her  indigna- 
tion burned.  Why  should  it  -be  that  a  Government 
should  ask  of  brave  men  what  they  must  know  to  be 
impossible  ?  Hard  upon  this  conviction  came  the  words 
of  the  Superintendent,  "  Cameron  is  the  man  and  the 
only  man  for  the  job."  Finally,  the  Inspector  was 
apologizing  for  her  husband.  It  roused  a  hot  resent- 
ment in  her  to  hear  him.  That  thing  she  could  not  and 
would  not  bear.  Never  should  it  be  said  that  her 
husband  had  needed  a  friend  to  apologize  for  him. 

As  these  convictions  grew  in  clearness  she  found 
herself  brought  suddenly  and  sharply  to  face  the  issue. 
With  a  swift  contraction  of  the  heart  she  realized  that 
she  must  send  her  husband  on  this  perilous  duty.  Ah ! 
Could  she  do  it?  It  was  as  if  a  cold  hand  were 
steadily  squeezing  drop  by  drop  the  life-blood  from 
her  heart.  In  contrast,  and  as  if  with  one  flash  of 
light,  the  long  happy  days  of  the  last  six  months  passed 
before  her  mind.  How  could  she  give  him  up?  Her 
breathing  came  in  short  gasps,  her  lips  became  dry, 
her  eyes  fixed  and  staring.  She  was  fighting  for  what 


THE   ANCIENT    SACEIFICE        61 

was  dearer  to  her  than  life.  Suddenly  she  flung  her 
hands  to  her  face  and  groaned  aloud. 

"What  is  it,  Mandy?"  cried  her  husband,  starting 
from  his  place. 

His  words  seemed  to  recall  her.  The  agonizing  agi- 
tation passed  from  her  and  a  great  quiet  fell  upon  her 
soul.  The  struggle  was  done.  She  had  made  the  an- 
cient sacrifice  demanded  of  women  since  ever  the  first 
man  went  forth  to  war.  It  remained  only  to  complete 
with  fitting  ritual  this  ancient  sacrifice.  She  rose  from 
her  seat  and  faced  her  husband. 

"Allan,"  she  said,  and  her  voice  was  of  indescriba- 
ble sweetness,  "you  must  go." 

Her  husband  took  her  in  his  arms  without  a  word, 
then  brokenly  he  said: 

"My  girl!  My  own  brave  girl!  I  knew  you  must 
send  me." 

"Yes,"  she  replied,  gazing  into  his  face  with  a  wan 
smile, '  *  I  knew  it  too,  because  I  knew  you  would  expect 
me  to." 

The  Inspector  had  risen  from  his  chair  at  her  first 
cry  and  was  standing  with  bent  head,  as  if  in  the 
presence  of  a  scene  too  sacred  to  witness.  Then  he 
came  to  her,  and,  with  old  time  and  courtly  grace  of 
the  fine  gentleman  he  was,  he  took  her  hand  and 
raised  it  to  his  lips. 

"Dear  lady,"  he  said,  "for  such  as  you  brave  men 
would  gladly  give  their  lives." 

"Give  their  lives!"  cried  Mandy.  "I  would  much 
rather  they  would  save  them.  But,"  she  added,  her 
voice  taking  a  practical  tone,  "sit  down  and  let  us 
talk.  Now  what's  the  work  and  what's  the  plan?" 

The  men  glanced  at  each  other  in  silent  admiration 
of  this  woman  who,  without  moan  or  murmur,  could 


62  THE    SUN   DANCE    TEAIL 

surrender  her  heart's  dearest  treasure  for  her  coun- 
try's good.  This  was  a  spirit  of  their  own  type. 

They  sat  down  before  the  fire  and  discussed  the 
business  before  them.  But  as  they  discussed  ever  and 
again  Mandy  would  find  her  mind  wandering  back 
over  the  past  happy  days.  Ever  and  again  a  word 
would  recall  her,  but  only  for  a  brief  moment  and  soon 
she  was  far  away  again. 

A  phrase  of  the  Inspector,  however,  arrested  and 
held  her. 

"He's  really  a  fine  looking  Indian,  in  short  a  kind 
of  aristocrat  among  the  Indians,"  he  was  saying. 

"An  aristocrat?"  she  exclaimed,  remembering  her 
own  word  about  the  Indian  Chief  they  had  met  that 
very  evening.  "Why,  that  is  like  our  Chief,  Allan." 

1 '  By  Jove !  You  're  right ! ' '  exclaimed  her  husband. 
"What's  your  man  like,  again?  Describe  him,  In- 
spector. ' ' 

The  Inspector  described  him  in  detail. 

' '  The  very  man  we  saw  to-night ! ' '  cried  Mandy,  and 
gave  her  description  of  the  ' '  Big  Chief. ' ' 

When  she  had  finished  the  Inspector  sat  looking  into 
the  fire. 

"Among  the  Piegans,  too,"  he  mused.  "That  fits 
in.  There  was  a  big  powwow  the  other  day  in  the 
Sun  Dance  Canyon.  The  Piegans'  is  the  nearest  re- 
serve, and  a  lot  of  them  were  there.  The  Superin- 
tendent says  he  is  somewhere  along  the  Sun  Dance." 

"Inspector,"  said  Allan,  with  sudden  determination, 
"we  will  drop  in  on  the  Piegans  to-morrow  morning 
by  sun-up." 

Mandy  started.  This  pace  was  more  rapid  than  she 
had  expected,  but,  having  made  the  sacrifice,  there  was 
with  her  no  word  of  recall. 


THE   ANCIENT    SACRIFICE        63 

The  Inspector  pondered  the  suggestion. 

"Well,"  he  said,  "it  would  do  no  harm  to  recon- 
noiter  at  any  rate.  But  we  can't  afford  to  make  any 
false  move,  and  we  can't  afford  to  fail." 

"Fail!"  said  Cameron  quietly.  "We  won't  fail. 
We'll  get  him."  And  the  lines  in  his  face  reminded 
his  wife  of  how  he  looked  that  night  three  years  before 
when  he  cowed  the  great  bully  Perkins  into  submission 
at  her  father's  door. 

Long  they  sat  and  planned.  As  the  Inspector  said, 
there  must  be  no  failure ;  hence  the  plan  must  provide 
for  every  possible  contingency.  By  far  the  keenest 
of  the  three  in  mental  activity  was  Mandy.  By  a  curi- 
ous psychological  process  the  Indian  Chief,  who  an 
hour  before  had  awakened  in  her  admiration  and  a 
certain  romantic  interest,  had  in  a  single  moment  be- 
come an  object  of  loathing,  almost  of  hatred.  That 
he  should  be  in  this  land  planning  for  her  people,  for 
innocent  and  defenseless  women  and  children,  the  hor- 
rors of  massacre  filled  her  with  a  fierce  anger.  But  a 
deeper  analysis  would  doubtless  have  revealed  a  per- 
sonal element  in  her  anger  and  loathing.  The  Indian 
had  become  the  enemy  for  whose  capture  and  for  whose 
destruction  her  husband  was  now  enlisted.  Deep  down 
in  her  quiet,  strong,  self-controlled  nature  there 
burned  a  passion  in  which  mingled  the  primitive  ani- 
mal instincts  of  the  female,  mate  for  mate,  and  mother 
for  offspring.  Already  her  mind  had  leaped  forward 
to  the  moment  when  this  cunning,  powerful  plotter 
would  be  at  death-grips  with  her  husband  and  she  not 
there  to  help.  With  intensity  of  purpose  and  relent- 
lessness  of  determination  she  focused  the  powers  of 
her  forceful  and  practical  mind  upon  the  problem 
engaging  their  thought. 


64  THE   SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 

With  mind  whetted  to  its  keenest  she  listened  to 
the  men  as  they  made  and  unmade  their  plans.  In 
ordinary  circumstances  the  procedure  of  arrest  would 
have  been  extremely  simple.  The  Inspector  and 
Cameron  would  have  ridden  into  the  Piegan  camp, 
and,  demanding  their  man,  would  have  quietly  and 
without  even  a  show  of  violence  carried  him  off.  It 
would  have  been  like  things  they  had  each  of  them 
done  single-handed  within  the  past  year. 

"When  once  we  make  a  start,  you  see,  Mrs.  Cam- 
eron, we  never  turn  back.  We  could  not  afford  to," 
said  the  Inspector.  There  was  no  suspicion  of  boast- 
ing in  the  Inspector's  voice.  He  was  simply  enun- 
ciating the  traditional  code  of  the  Police.  "And  if 
we  should  hesitate  with  this  man  or  fail  to  land  him 
every  Indian  in  these  territories  would  have  it  within 
a  week  and  our  prestige  would  receive  a  shock.  We 
dare  not  exhibit  any  sign  of  nerves.  On  the  other 
hand  we  dare  not  make  any  movement  in  force.  In 
short,  anything  unusual  must  be  avoided. ' ' 

"I  quite  see,"  replied  Mandy  with  keen  appreciation 
of  the  delicacy  of  the  situation. 

"So  that  I  fancy  the  simpler  the  plan  the  better. 
Cameron  will  ride  into  the  Piegan  camp  inquiring 
about  his  cattle,  as,  fortunately  for  the  present  situa- 
tion, he  has  cause  enough  to  in  quite  an  ordinary  way. 
I  drop  in  on  my  regular  patrol  looking  up  a  cattle- 
thief  in  quite  the  ordinary  way.  Seeing  this  strange 
chief,  I  arrest  him  on  suspicion.  Cameron  backs  me 
up.  The  thing  is  done.  Luckily  Trotting  Wolf,  who 
is  the  Head  Chief  now  of  the  Piegans,  has  a  fairly 
thorough  respect  for  the  Police,  and  unless  things 
have  gone  much  farther  in  his  band  than  I  think  he 
will  not  resist.  He  is,  after  all,  rather  harmless." 


THE   ANCIENT    SACRIFICE        65 

"I  don't  like  your  plan  at  all,  Inspector,"  said 
Mandy  promptly.  "The  moment  you  suggest  arrest 
that  moment  the  younger  men  will  be  up.  They  are 
just  back  from  a  big  brave-making  powwow,  you  say. 
They  are  all  worked  up,  and  keen  for  a  chance  to  prove 
that  they  are  braves  in  more  than  in  name.  You  give 
them  the  very  opportunity  you  wish  to  avoid.  Now 
hear  my  plan,"  she  continued,  her  voice  eager,  keen, 
hard,  in  the  intensity  of  her  purpose.  "I  ride  into 
camp  to-morrow  morning  to  see  the  sick  boy.  I  prom- 
ised I  would  and  I  really  want  to.  I  find  him  in  a 
fever,  for  a  fever  he  certainly  will  have.  I  dress  his 
wounded  ankle  and  discover  he  must  have  some  medi- 
cine. I  get  old  Copperhead  to  ride  back  with  me  for 
it.  You  wait  here  and  arrest  him  without  trouble. ' ' 

The  two  men  looked  at  each  other,  then  at  her,  with 
a  gentle  admiring  pity.  The  plan  was  simplicity  itself 
and  undoubtedly  eliminated  the  elements  of  danger 
which  the  Inspector's  possessed.  It  had,  however,  one 
fatal  defect. 

"Fine,  Mandy!"  said  her  husband,  reaching  across 
the  table  and  patting  her  hand  that  lay  clenched  upon 
the  cloth.  "But  it  won't  do." 

"And  why  not,  pray?"  she  demanded. 

"We  do  not  use  our  women  as  decoys  in  this  coun- 
try, nor  do  we  expose  them  to  dangers  we  men  dare 
not  face." 

"Allan,"  cried  his  wife  with  angry  impatience, 
"you  miss  the  whole  point.  For  a  woman  to  ride  into 
the  Piegan  camp,  especially  on  this  errand  of  mercy, 
involves  her  in  no  danger.  And  what  possible  danger 
would  there  be  in  having  the  old  villain  ride  back  with 
me  for  medicine  ?  And  as  to  the  decoy  business, ' '  here 
she  shrugged  her  shoulders  contemptuously,  "do  you 


66  THE   SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 

think  I  care  a  bit  for  that?  Isn't  he  planning  to  kill 
women  and  children  in  this  country?  And — and— 
won't  he  do  his  best  to  kill  you?"  she  panted.  "Isn't 
it  right  for  me  to  prevent  him  ?  Prevent  him !  To  me 
he  is  like  a  snake.  I  would — would — gladly  kill  him — 
myself."  As  she  spoke  these  words  her  eyes  were 
indeed,  in  Sergeant  Ferry's  words,  "like  little  blue 
flames." 

But  the  men  remained  utterly  unmoved.  To  their 
manhood  the  plan  was  repugnant,  and  in  spite  of 
Mandy's  arguments  and  entreaties  was  rejected. 

"It  is  the  better  plan,  Mrs.  Cameron,"  said  the 
Inspector  kindly,  "but  we  cannot,  you  must  see  we  can- 
not, adopt  it." 

"You  mean  you  will  not,"  cried  Mandy  indignantly, 
"just  because  you  are  stupid  stubborn  mon ! ' '  And  she 
proceeded  to  argue  the  matter  all  over  again  with  con- 
vincing logic,  but  with  the  same  result.  There  are 
propositions  which  do  not  lend  themselves  to  the  ar- 
bitrament of  logic  with  men.  When  the  safety  of  their 
women  is  at  stake  they  refuse  to  discuss  chances.  In 
such  a  case  they  may  be  stupid,  but  they  are  quite  im- 
movable. 

Blocked  by  this  immovable  stupidity,  Mandy  yielded 
her  ground,  but  only  to  attempt  a  flank  movement. 

"Let  me  go  with  you  on  your  reconnoitering  expedi- 
tion," she  pleaded.  "Bather,  let  us  go,  Allan,  you 
and  I  together,  to  see  the  boy.  I  am  really  sorry 
for  that  boy.  He  can't  help  his  father,  can  he?" 

"Quite  true,"  said  the  Inspector  gravely. 

"Let  us  go  and  find  out  all  we  can  and  next  day 
make  your  attempt.  Besides,  Allan,"  she  cried  under 
a  sudden  inspiration  of  memory,  "you  can't  possibly 


THE   ANCIENT    SACRIFICE        67 

go.  You  forget  your  sister  arrives  at  Calgary  this 
week.  You  must  meet  her. ' ' 

"By  Jove!  Is  that  so?  I  had  forgotten,"  said 
Cameron,  turning  to  study  the  calendar  on  the  wall, 
a  gorgeous  work  of  art  produced  out  of  the  surplus 
revenues  of  a  Life  Insurance  Company.  "Let's  see," 
he  calculated.  "This  week?  Three  days  will  take  us 
in.  We  are  still  all  right.  We  have  five.  That  gives 
us  two  days  clear  for  this  job.  I  feel  like  making  this 
try,  Mandy,"  he  continued  earnestly.  "We  have  this 
chap  practically  within  our  grasp.  He  will  be  off 
guard.  The  Piegans  are  not  yet  worked  up  to  the 
point  of  resistance.  Ten  days  from  now  our  man  may 
be  we  can't  tell  where." 

Mandy  remained  silent.  The  ritual  of  her  sacrifice 
was  not  yet  complete. 

"I  think  you  are  right,  Allan,"  at  length  she  said 
slowly  with  a  twisted  smile.  "I'm  afraid  you  are 
right.  It's  hard  not  to  be  in  it,  though.  But,"  she 
added,  as  if  moved  by  a  sudden  thought,  ' '  I  may  be  in 
it  yet." 

"You  will  certainly  be  with  us  in  spirit,  Mandy," 
he  replied,  patting  the  firm  brown  hand  that  lay  upon 
the  table. 

"Yes,  truly,  and  in  our  hearts,"  added  the  Inspector 
with  a  bow. 

But  Mandy  made  no  reply.  Already  she  was  turn- 
ing over  in  her  mind  a  half -formed  plan  which  she  had 
no  intention  of  sharing  with  these  men,  who,  after  the 
manner  of  their  kind,  would  doubtless  block  it. 

Early  morning  found  Cameron  and  the  Inspector  on 
the  trail  toward  the  Piegan  Reserve,  riding  easily,  for 
they  knew  not  what  lay  before  them  nor  what  demand 
they  might  have  to  make  upon  their  horses  that  day. 


68  THE   SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 

The  Inspector  rode  a  strongly  built,  stocky  horse  of 
no  great  speed  but  good  for  an  all-day  run.  Cameron's 
horse  was  a  broncho,  an  unlovely  brute,  awkward  and 
ginger-colored — his  name  was  Ginger — sad-eyed  and 
wicked-looking,  but  short-coupled  and  with  flat,  rangy 
legs  that  promised  speed.  For  his  sad-eyed,  awkward 
broncho  Cameron  professed  a  deep  affection  and  de- 
fended him  stoutly  against  the  Inspector's  jibes. 

"You  can't  kill  him,"  he  declared.  "He'll  go  till 
he  drops,  and  then  twelve  miles  more.  He  isn't  beau- 
tiful to  look  at  and  his  manners  are  nothing  to  boast 
of,  but  he  will  hang  upon  the  fence  the  handsome  skin 
of  that  cob  of  yours." 

TVhen  still  five  or  six  miles  from  camp  they  sep- 
arated. 

"The  old  boy  may,  of  course,  be  gone,"  said  the 
Inspector  as  he  was  parting  from  his  friend.  "By 
Superintendent  Strong's  report  he  seems  to  be  con- 
tinually on  the  move." 

"I  rather  think  his  son  will  hold  him  for  a  day  or 
two,"  replied  Cameron.  "Now  you  give  me  a  full 
half  hour.  I  shall  look  in  upon  the  boy,  you  know. 
But  don't  be  longer.  I  don't  as  a  rule  linger  among 
these  Piegan  gentry,  you  know,  and  a  lengthened 
stay  would  certainly  arouse  suspicion. ' ' 

Cameron's  way  lay  along  the  high  plateau,  from 
which  a  descent  could  be  made  by  a  trail  leading 
straight  south  into  the  Piegan  camp.  The  Inspector's 
course  carried  him  in  a  long  detour  to  the  left,  by 
which  he  should  enter  from  the  eastern  end  the  valley 
in  which  lay  the  Indian  camp.  Cameron's  trail  at 
the  first  took  him  through  thick  timber,  then,  as  it  ap- 
proached the  level  floor  of  the  valley,  through  country 
that  became  more  open.  The  trees  were  larger  and 


THE   ANCIENT   SACRIFICE        69 

with  less  undergrowth  between  them.  In  the  valley 
itself  a  few  stubble  fields  with  fences  sadly  in  need 
of  repair  gave  evidence  of  the  partial  success  of  the 
attempts  of  the  farm  instructor  to  initiate  the  Piegans 
into  the  science  and  art  of  agriculture.  A  few  scat- 
tering log  houses,  which  the  Indians  had  been  induced 
by  the  Government  to  build  for  themselves,  could  be 
seen  here  and  there  among  the  trees.  But  during  the 
long  summer  days,  and  indeed  until  driven  from  the 
open  by  the  blizzards  of  winter,  not  one  of  these  chil- 
dren of  the  free  air  and  open  sky  could  be  persuaded 
to  enter  the  dismal  shelter  afforded  by  the  log  houses. 
They  much  preferred  the  flimsy  teepee  or  tent.  And 
small  wonder.  Their  methods  of  sanitation  did  not 
comport  with  a  permanent  dwelling.  When  the  teepee 
grew  foul,  which  their  habits  made  inevitable,  a  simple 
and  satisfactory  remedy  was  discovered  in  a  shift  to 
another  camp-ground.  Not  so  with  the  log  houses, 
whose  foul  corners,  littered  with  the  accumulated  filth 
of  a  winter's  occupation,  became  fertile  breeding 
places  for  the  germs  of  disease  and  death.  Irregu- 
larly strewn  upon  the  grassy  plain  in  the  valley  bottom 
some  two  dozen  teepees  marked  the  Piegan  summer 
headquarters.  Above  the  camp  rose  the  smoke  of 
their  camp-fires,  for  it  was  still  early  and  their  morn- 
ing meal  was  yet  in  preparation. 


70  THE   SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

CHAPTER   VI 

THE   ILLUSIVE   COPPERHEAD 

CAMERON'S  approach  to  the  Piegan  camp  was 
greeted  by  a  discordant  chorus  of  yelps  and 
howls  from  a  pack  of  mangy,  half-starved  curs 
of  all  breeds,  shapes  and  sizes,  the  invariable  and  in- 
evitable concomitants  of  an  Indian  encampment.  The 
squaws,  who  had  been  busy  superintending  the  pots 
and  pans  in  which  simmered  the  morning  meal  of  their 
lords  and  masters,  faded  from  view  at  Cameron's  ap- 
proach, and  from  the  teepees  on  every  side  men  ap- 
peared and  stood  awaiting  with  stolid  faces  the  white 
man's  greeting.  Cameron  was  known  to  them  of  old. 

"Good-day!"  he  cried  briefly,  singling  out  the 
Chief. 

"Huh!"  replied  the  Chief,  and  awaited  further 
parley. 

"No  grub  yet,  eh?    You  sleep  too  long,  Chief." 

The  Chief  smiled  grimly. 

"I  say,  Chief,"  continued  Cameron,  "I  have  lost  a 
couple  of  steers — big  fellows,  too — any  of  your  fellows 
seen  them?" 

Trotting  Wolf  turned  to  the  group  of  Indians  who 
had  slouched  toward  them  in  the  meantime  and  spoke 
to  them  in  the  singsong  monotone  of  the  Indian. 

1 '  No  see  cow, ' '  he  replied  briefly. 

Cameron  threw  himself  from  his  horse  and,  striding 
to  a  large  pot  simmering  over  a  fire,  stuck  his  knife 
into  the  mass  and  lifted  up  a  large  piece  of  flesh,  the 
bones  of  which  looked  uncommonly  like  ribs  of  beef. 

"What's  this,  Trotting  Wolf?"  he  inquired  with  a 
stern  ring  in  his  voice. 


THE   ILLUSIVE    COPPERHEAD    71 

"Deer,"  promptly  and  curtly  replied  the  Chief. 

"Who  shot  hunt" 

The  Chief  consulted  the  group  of  Indians  standing 
near. 

' '  This  man, ' '  he  replied,  indicating  a  young*  Indian. 

"What's  your  name?"  said  Cameron  sharply.  "I 
know  you." 

The  young  Indian  shook  his  head. 

"Oh,  come  now,  you  know  English  all  right.  What's 
your  name?" 

Still  the  Indian  shook  his  head,  meeting  Cameron's 
look  with  a  fearless  eye. 

"He  White  Cloud,"  said  the  Chief. 

"White  Cloud!    Big  Chief,  eh?"  said  Cameron. 

"Huh!"  replied  Trotting  Wolf,  while  a  smile  ap- 
peared on  several  faces. 

"You  shot  this  deer?" 

"Huh!"  replied  the  Indian,  nodding. 

"I  thought  you  could  speak  English  all  right." 

Again  a  smile  touched  the  faces  of  some  of  the 
group. 

"Where  did  you  shoot  him?" 

White  Cloud  pointed  vaguely  toward  the  mountains. 

'  *  How  far  ?  Two,  three,  four  miles  ? ' '  inquired  Cam- 
eron, holding  up  his  fingers. 

' ;  Huh ! ' '  grunted  the  Indian,  holding  up  five  fingers. 

"Five  miles,  eh?  Big  deer,  too,"  said  Cameron, 
pointing  to  the  ribs. 

"Huh!" 

' '  How  did  you  carry  him  home  ? ' ' 

The  Indian  shook  his  head. 

"How  did  he  carry  him  these  five  miles?"  continued 
Cameron,  turning  to  Trotting  Wolf. 

* '  Pony, ' '  replied  Trotting  Wolf  curtly. 


72  THE   SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 

"Good!"  said  Cameron.  "Now,"  said  he,  turning 
swiftly  upon  the  young  Indian,  "where  is  the  skin?" 

The  Indian's  eyes  wavered  for  a  fleeting  instant. 
He  spoke  a  few  words  to  Trotting  Wolf.  Conversa- 
tion followed. 

"Well?"  said  Cameron. 

"He  says  dogs  eat  him  up." 

"And  the  head?  This  big  fellow  had  a  big  head. 
Where  is  it?" 

Again  the  Indian's  eyes  wavered  and  again  the  con- 
versation followed. 

"Left  him  up  in  bush,"  replied  the  chief. 

"We  will  ride  up  and  see  it,  then,"  said  Cameron. 

The  Indians  became  voluble  among  themselves. 

"No  find,"  said  the  Chief.    "Wolf  eat  him  up." 

Cameron  raised  the  meat  to  his  nose,  sniffed  its 
odor  and  dropped  it  back  into  the  pot.  With  a  single 
stride  he  was  close  to  White  Cloud. 

"White  Cloud,"  he  said  sternly,  "you  speak  with  a 
forked  tongue.  In  plain  English,  White  Cloud,  you  lie. 
Trotting  Wolf,  you  know  that  is  no  deer.  That  is  cow. 
That  is  my  cow." 

Trotting  Wolf  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"No  see  cow  me,"  he  said  sullenly. 

"White  Cloud,"  said  Cameron,  swiftly  turning  again 
upon  the  young  Indian,  "where  did  you  shoot  my 
cow*" 

The  young  Indian  stared  back  at  Cameron,  never 
blinking  an  eyelid.  Cameron  felt  his  wrath  rising, 
but  kept  himself  well  in  hand,  remembering  the  pur- 
pose of  his  visit.  During  this  conversation  he  had 
been  searching  the  gathering  crowd  of  Indians  for  the 
tall  form  of  his  friend  of  the  previous  night,  but  he 
was  nowhere  to  be  seen.  Cameron  felt  he  must  con- 


THE    ILLUSIVE    COPPERHEAD   73 

tinue  the  conversation,  and,  raising  his  voice  as  if  in 
anger — and  indeed  there  was  no  need  of  pretense  for 
he  longed  to  seize  White  Cloud  by  the  throat  and  shake 
the  truth  out  of  him — he  said: 

11  Trotting  Wolf,  your  young  men  have  been  killing 
my  cattle  for  many  days.  You  know  that  this  is  a 
serious  offense  with  the  Police.  Indians  go  to  jail 
for  this.  And  the  Police  will  hold  you  responsible. 
You  are  the  Chief  on  this  reserve.  The  Police  will 
ask  why  you  cannot  keep  your  young  men  from  steal- 
ing cattle." 

The  number  of  Indians  was  increasing  every  moment 
and  still  Cameron's  eyes  searched  the  group,  but  in 
vain.  Murmurs  arose  from  the  Indians,  which  he 
easily  interpreted  to  mean  resentment,  but  he  paid  no 
heed. 

"The  Police  do  not  want  a  Chief,"  he  cried  in  a  still 
louder  voice,  "who  cannot  control  his  young  men  and 
keep  them  from  breaking  the  law." 

He  paused  abruptly.  From  behind  a  teepee  some 
distance  away  there  appeared  the  figure  of  the  "Big 
Chief"  whom  he  so  greatly  desired  to  see.  Giving  no 
sign  of  his  discovery,  he  continued  his  exhortation  to 
Trotting  Wolf,  to  that  worthy's  mingled  rage  and 
embarrassment.  The  suggestion  of  jail  for  cattle- 
thieves  the  Chief  knew  well  was  no  empty  threat,  for 
two  of  his  band  even  at  that  moment  were  in  prison 
for  this  very  crime.  This  knowledge  rendered  him 
uneasy.  He  had  no  desire  himself  to  undergo  a  like 
experience,  and  it  irked  his  tribe  and  made  them  rest- 
less and  impatient  of  his  control  that  their  Chief  could 
not  protect  them  from  these  unhappy  consequences  of 
their  misdeeds.  They  knew  that  with  old  Crowfoot, 
the  Chief  of  the  Blackfeet  band,  such  untoward  conse- 


74  THE   SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 

quences  rarely  befell  the  members  of  that  tribe.  Al- 
ready Trotting  Wolf  could  distinguish  the  murmurs 
of  his  young  men,  who  were  resenting  the  charge 
against  White  Cloud,  as  well  as  the  tone  and  manner 
in  which  it  was  delivered.  Most  gladly  would  he  have 
defied  this  truculent  rancher  to  do  his  worst,  but  his 
courage  was  not  equal  to  the  plunge,  and,  besides,  the 
circumstances  for  such  a  break  were  not  yet  favorable. 

At  this  juncture  Cameron,  facing  about,  saw  within 
a  few  feet  of  him  the  Indian  whose  capture  he  was 
enlisted  to  secure. 

"Hello!"  he  cried,  as  if  suddenly  recognizing  him. 
"How  is  the  boy?" 

"Good,"  said  the  Indian  with  grave  dignity.  "He 
sick  here,"  touching  his  head. 

"Ah!  Fever,  I  suppose,"  replied  Cameron.  "Take 
me  to  see  him." 

The  Indian  led  the  way  to  the  teepee  that  stood 
slightly  apart  from  the  others. 

Inside  the  teepee  upon  some  skins  and  blankets  lay 
the  boy,  whose  bright  eyes  and  flushed  cheeks  pro- 
claimed fever.  An  old  squaw,  bent  in  form  and  wrin- 
kled in  face,  crouched  at  the  end  of  the  couch,  her 
eyes  gleaming  like  beads  of  black  glass  in  her  mahog- 
any face. 

"How  is  the  foot  to-day?"  cried  Allan.  "Pain 
bad?" 

"Huh!"  grunted  the  lad,  and  remained  perfectly 
motionless  but  for  the  restless  glittering  eyes  that  fol- 
lowed every  movement  of  his  father. 

"You  want  the  doctor  here,"  said  Cameron  in  a 
serious  tone,  kneeling  beside  the  couch.  * '  That  boy  is 
in  a  high  fever.  And  you  can't  get  him  too  quick. 
Better  send  a  boy  to  the  Fort  and  get  the  Police  doc- 


THE    ILLUSIVE    COPPERHEAD    75 

tor.  How  did  you  sleep  last  night?"  he  inquired  of 
the  lad. 

"No  sleep,"  said  his  father.  "Go  this  way — this 
way, ' '  throwing  his  arms  about  his  head.  ' '  Talk,  talk, 
talk." 

But  Cameron  was  not  listening  to  him.  He  was 
hearing  a  jingle  of  spurs  and  bridle  from  down  the 
trail  and  he  knew  that  the  Inspector  had  arrived.  The 
old  Indian,  too,  had  caught  the  sound.  His  piercing 
eyes  swiftly  searched  the  face  of  the  white  man  be- 
side him.  But  Cameron,  glancing  quietly  at  him,  con- 
tinued to  discuss  the  condition  of  the  boy. 

"Yes,  you  must  get  the  doctor  here  at  once.  There 
is  danger  of  blood-poisoning.  The  boy  may  lose  his 
foot."  And  he  continued  to  describe  the  gruesome 
possibilities  of  neglect  of  that  lacerated  wound.  As 
he  rose  from  the  couch  the  boy  caught  his  arm. 

"You'  squaw  good.  Come  see  me,"  he  said.  "Good 
• — good."  The  eager  look  in  the  fevered  eye  touched 
Cameron. 

"All  right,  boy,  I  shall  tell  her,"  he  said.  "Good- 
by!"  He  took  the  boy's  hand  in  his.  But  the  boy 
held  it  fast  in  a  nervous  grasp. 

"You'  squaw  come — sure.  Hurt  here — bad."  He 
struck  his  forehead  with  his  hand.  "You'  squaw  come 
— make  good." 

"All  right,"  said  Cameron.  "I  shall  bring  her  my- 
self. Good-by!" 

Together  they  passed  out  of  the  teepee,  Cameron 
keeping  close  to  the  Indian's  side  and  talking  to  him 
loudly  and  earnestly  about  the  boy's  condition,  all  the 
while  listening  to  the  Inspector's  voice  from  behind 
the  row  of  teepees. 


76  THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

"Ah!"  he  exclaimed  aloud  as  they  came  in  sight  of 
the  Inspector  mounted  on  his  horse.  "Here  is  my 
friend,  Inspector  Dickson.  Hello,  Inspector!"  he 
called  out.  "Come  over  here.  We  have  a  sick  boy 
and  I  want  you  to  help  us." 

"Hello,  Cameron!"  cried  the  Inspector,  riding  up 
and  dismounting.  "What's  up?" 

Trotting  Wolf  and  the  other  Indians  slowly  drew 
near. 

' '  There  is  a  sick  boy  in  here, ' '  said  Cameron,  point- 
ing to  the  teepee  behind  him.  "He  is  the  son  of  this 

man,  Chief "  He  paused.  "I  don't  know  your 

name. ' ' 

Without  an  instant's  hesitation  the  Indian  replied: 

"Chief  Onawata." 

"His  boy  got  his  foot  in  a  trap.  My  wife  dressed 
the  wound  last  night,"  continued  Cameron.  "Come 
in  and  see  him." 

But  the  Indian  put  up  his  hand. 

"No,"  he  said  quietly.  "My  boy  not  like  strange 
man.  Bad  head — here.  Want  sleep — sleep." 

"Ah!"  said  the  Inspector.  "Quite  right.  Let  him 
sleep.  Nothing  better  than  sleep.  A  good  long  sleep 
will  fix  him  up." 

"He  needs  the  doctor,  however,"  said  Cameron. 

"Ah,  yes,  yes.    Well,  we  shall  send  the  doctor." 

"Everything  all  right,  Inspector?"  said  Cameron, 
throwing  his  friend  a  significant  glance. 

* '  Quite  right ! ' '  replied  the  Inspector.  * '  But  I  must 
be  going.  Good-by,  Chief!"  As  his  one  hand  closed 
on  the  Indian's  his  other  slid  down  upon  his  wrist. 
"I  want  you,  Chief,"  he  said  in  a  quiet  stern  voice. 
"I  want  you  to  come  along  with  me." 


THE   ILLUSIVE    COPPERHEAD    77 

His  hand  had  hardly  closed  upon  the  wrist  than  with 
a  single  motion,  swift,  snake-like,  the  Indian  wrenched 
his  hand  from  the  Inspector's  iron  grasp  and,  leap- 
ing back  a  space  of  three  paces,  stood  with  body  poised 
as  if  to  spring. 

"Halt  there,  Chief!    Don't  move  or  you  die!" 

The  Indian  turned  to  see  Cameron  covering  him 
with  two  guns.  At  once  he  relaxed  his  tense  attitude 
and,  drawing  himself  up,  he  demanded  in  a  voice  of 
indignant  scorn: 

"Why  you  touch  me?  Me  Big  Chief!  You  little 
dog!"  * 

As  he  stood,  erect,  tall,  scornful,  commanding,  with 
his  head  thrown  back  and  his  arm  outstretched,  his 
eyes  glittering  and  his  f  ace  eloquent  of  haughty  pride, 
he  seemed  the  very  incarnation  of  the  wild  uncon- 
quered  spirit  of  that  once  proud  race  he  represented. 
For  a  moment  or  two  a  deep  silence  held  the  group 
of  Indians,  and  even  the  white  men  were  impressed. 
Then  the  Inspector  spoke. 

"Trotting  Wolf,"  he  said,  "I  want  this  man.  He 
is  a  horse-thief.  I  know  him.  I  am  going  to  take  him 
to  the  Fort.  He  is  a  bad  man." 

"No,"  said  Trotting  Wolf,  in  a  loud  voice,  "he  no 
bad  man.  He  my  friend.  Come  here  many  days. ' '  He 
held  up  both  hands.  "No  teef — my  friend." 

A  loud  murmur  rose  from  the  Indians,  who  in  larger 
numbers  kept  crowding  nearer.  At  this  ominous 
sound  the  Inspector  swiftly  drew  two  revolvers,  and, 
backing  toward  the  man  he  was  seeking  to  arrest,  said 
in  a  quiet,  clear  voice : 

'  *  Trotting  Wolf,  this  man  goes  with  me.  If  he  is  no 
thief  he  will  be  back  again  very  soon.  See  these  guns  ? 
Six  men  die,"  shaking  one  of  them,  "when  this  goes 


78  THE    SUN   DANCE    TEAIL 

off.  And  six  more  die,"  shaking  the  other,  "when  this 
goes  off.  The  first  man  will  be  you,  Trotting  Wolf, 
and  this  man  second." 

Trotting  Wolf  hesitated. 

"Trotting  Wolf,"  said  Cameron.  "See  these  guns? 
Twelve  men  die  if  you  make  any  fuss.  You  steal  my 
cattle.  You  cannot  stop  your  young  men.  The  Pie- 
gans  need  a  new  Chief.  If  this  man  is  no  thief  he  will 
be  back  again  in  a  few  days.  The  Inspector  speaks 
truth.  You  know  he  never  lies." 

Still  Trotting  Wolf  stood  irresolute.  The  Indians 
began  to  shuffle  and  crowd  nearer. 

"Trotting  Wolf,"  said  the  Inspector  sharply,  "tell 
your  men  that  the  first  man  that  steps  beyond  that 
poplar-tree  dies.  That  is  my  word." 

The  Chief  spoke  to  the  crowd.  There  was  a  hoarse 
guttural  murmur  in  response,  but  those  nearest  to  the 
tree  backed  away  from  it.  They  knew  the  Police  never 
showed  a  gun  except  when  prepared  to  use  it.  For 
years  they  had  been  accustomed  to  the  administra- 
tion of  justice  and  the  enforcement  of  law  at  the  hands 
of  the  North  West  Mounted  Police,  and  among  the  tra- 
ditions of  that  Force  the  Indians  had  learned  to  accept 
two  as  absolutely  settled:  the  first,  that  they  never 
failed  to  get  the  man  they  wanted;  the  second,  that 
their  administration  of  law  was  marked  by  the  most 
rigid  justice.  It  was  Chief  Onawata  himself  that  found 
the  solution. 

"Me  no  thief.  Me  no  steal  horse.  Me  Big  Chief. 
Me  go  to  your  Fort.  My  heart  clean.  Me  see  your 
Big  Chief."  He  uttered  these  words  with  an  air  of 
quiet  but  impressive  dignity. 

"That's  sensible,"  said  the  Inspector,  moving 
toward  him.  '  *  You  will  get  full  justice.  Come  along ! ' ' 


THE   ILLUSIVE    COPPERHEAD    79 

"I  go  see  my  boy.  My  boy  sick."  His  voice  be- 
came low,  soft,  almost  tremulous. 

"Certainly,"  said  Cameron.  "Go  in  and  see  the 
lad.  And  we  will  see  that  you  get  fair  play." 

"Good!"  said  the  Indian,  and,  turning  on  his  heel, 
he  passed  into  the  teepee  where  his  boy  lay. 

Through  the  teepee  wall  their  voices  could  be  heard 
in  quiet  conversation.  In  a  few  minutes  the  old 
squaw  passed  out  on  an  errand  and  then  in  again, 
eying  the  Inspector  as  she  passed  with  malevolent 
hate.  Again  she  passed  out,  this  time  bowed  down 
under  a  load  of  blankets  and  articles  of  Indian  house- 
hold furniture,  and  returned  no  more.  Still  the  con- 
versation within  the  teepee  continued,  the  boy's  voice 
now  and  again  rising  high,  clear,  the  other  replying 
in  low,  even,  deep  tones. 

"I  will  just  get  my  horse,  Inspector,"  said  Cam- 
eron, making  his  way  through  the  group  of  Indians  to 
where  Ginger  was  standing  with  sad  and  drooping 
head. 

"Time's  up,  I  should  say,"  said  the  Inspector  to 
Cameron  as  he  returned  with  his  horse.  "Just  give 
him  a  call,  will  you!" 

Cameron  stepped  to  the  door  of  the  teepee. 

"Come  along,  Chief,  we  must  be  going,"  he  said, 
putting  his  head  inside  the  teepee  door.  * '  Hello ! "  he 
cried,  "Where  the  deuce — where  is  he  gone?"  He 
sprang  quickly  out  of  the  teepee.  "Has  he  passed 
out?" 

"Passed  out?"  said  the  Inspector.  "No.  Is  he  not 
inside?" 

"He's  not  here." 

Both  men  rushed  into  the  teepee.  On  the  couch  the 
boy  still  lay,  his  eyes  brilliant  with  fever  but  more 


80  THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

with  hate.  At  the  foot  of  the  couch  still  crouched  the 
old  crone,  but  there  was  no  sign  of  the  Chief. 

1  i  Get  up ! "  said  the  Inspector  to  the  old  squaw,  turn- 
ing the  blankets  and  skins  upside  down. 

"Hee!  hee!"  she  laughed  in  diabolical  glee,  spit- 
ting at  him  as  he  passed. 

"Did  no  one  enter?"  asked  Cameron. 

"Not  a  soul." 

"Nor  go  out?" 

"No  one  except  the  old  squaw  here.  I  saw  her  go 
out  with  a  pack. ' ' 

"With  a  pack!"  echoed  Cameron.  And  the  two 
men  stood  looking  at  each  other.  "By  Jove!"  said 
Cameron  in  deep  disgust,  "We're  done.  He  is  rightly 
named  Copperhead.  Quick!"  he  cried,  "Let  us  search 
this  camp,  though  it's  not  much  use." 

And  so  indeed  it  proved.  Through  every  teepee 
they  searched  in  hot  haste,  tumbling  out  squalling 
squaws  and  papooses.  But  all  in  vain.  Copperhead 
had  as  completely  disappeared  as  if  he  had  vanished 
into  thin  air.  With  faces  stolid  and  unmoved  by  a 
single  gleam  of  satisfaction  the  Indians  watched  their 
hurried  search. 

"We  will  take  a  turn  around  this  camp,"  said  Cam- 
eron, swinging  on  to  his  pony.  "You  hear  me!"  he 
continued,  riding  up  close  to  Trotting  Wolf,  "We 
haven 't  got  our  man  but  we  will  come  back  again.  And 
listen  carefully!  If  I  lose  a  single  steer  this  fall  I 
shall  come  and  take  you,  Trotting  Wolf,  to  the  Fort, 
if  I  have  to  bring  you  by  the  hair  of  the  head. ' ' 

But  Trotting  Wolf  only  shrugged  his  shoulders, 
saying : 

"No  see  cow." 


THE   ILLUSIVE    COPPERHEAD    81 

1 1  Is  there  any  use  taking  a  look  around  this  camp  ? ' ' 
said  the  Inspector. 

* i  What  else  can  we  do  ? "  said  Cameron.  ' '  We  might 
as  well.  There  is  a  faint  chance  we  might  come  across 
a  trace." 

But  no  trace  did  they  find,  though  they  spent  an 
hour  and  more  in  close  and  minute  scrutiny  of  the 
ground  about  the  camp  and  the  trails  leading  out 
from  it. 

"Where  now?"  inquired  the  Inspector. 

"Home  for  me,"  said  Cameron.  "To-morrow  to 
Calgary.  Next  week  I  take  up  this  trail.  You  may 
as  well  come  along  with  me,  Inspector.  We  can  talk 
things  over  as  we  go." 

They  were  a  silent  and  chagrined  pair  as  they 
rode  out  from  the  Reserve  toward  the  ranch.  As  they 
were  climbing  from  the  valley  to  the  plateau  above 
they  came  to  a  soft  bit  of  ground.  Here  Cameron 
suddenly  drew  rein  with  a  warning  cry,  and,  flinging 
himself  off  his  broncho,  was  upon  his  knee  examining 
a  fresh  track. 

"A  pony-track,  by  all  that's  holy!  And  within  an 
hour.  It  is  our  man,"  he  cried,  examining  the  trail 
carefully  and  following  it  up  the  hill  and  out  on  to 
the  plateau.  "It  is  our  man  sure  enough,  and  he  is 
taking  this  trail." 

For  some  miles  the  pony-tracks  were  visible  enough. 
There  was  no  attempt  to  cover  them.  The  rider  was 
evidently  pushing  hard. 

"Where  do  you  think  he  is  heading  for,  Inspector?" 

"Well,"  said  the  Inspector,  "this  trail  strikes 
toward  the  Blackfoot  Reserve  by  way  of  your  ranch." 

"My  ranch!"  cried  Cameron.  "My  God!  Look 
there!" 


82  THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

As  he  spoke  the  ginger-colored  broncho  leaped  into 
a  gallop.  Five  miles  away  a  thin  column  of  smoke 
could  be  seen  rising  up  into  the  air.  Every  mile  made 
it  clearer  to  Cameron  that  the  smoke  rising  from  be- 
hind the  round-topped  hill  before  him  was  from  his 
ranch-buildings,  and  every  mile  intensified  his  anxiety. 
His  wife  was  alone  on  the  ranch  at  the  mercy  of  that 
fiend.  That  was  the  agonizing  thought  that  tore  at  his 
heart  as  his  panting  broncho  pounded  along  the  trail. 
From  the  top  of  the  hill  overlooking  the  ranch  a  mile 
away  his  eye  swept  the  scene  below,  swiftly  taking  in 
the  details.  The  ranch-house  was  in  flames  and  burn- 
ing fiercely.  The  stables  were  untouched.  A  horse 
stood  tied  to  the  corral  and  two  figures  were  hurrying 
to  and  fro  about  the  blazing  building.  As  they  neared 
the  scene  it  became  clear  that  one  of  the  figures  was 
that  of  a  woman. 

"Mandy!"  he  shouted  from  afar.  "Mandy,  thank 
God  it's  you!*' 

But  they  were  too  absorbed  in  their  business  of  fight- 
ing the  fire.  They  neither  heard  nor  saw  him  till  he 
flung  himself  off  his  broncho  at  their  side. 

"Oh,  thank  God,  Mandy!"  he  panted,  "you  ^re 
safe."  He  gathered  her  into  his  arms. 

"Oh/ Allan,  I  am  so  sorry." 

"Sorry?     Sorry?     Why?" 

"Our  beautiful  house!" 

"House?" 

"And  all  our  beautiful  things!" 

* '  Things ! '  '  He  laughed  aloud.  l '  House  and  things ! 
Why,  Mandy,  I  have  you  safe.  What  else  matters?" 
Again  he  laughed  aloud,  holding  her  off  from  him  at 
arm 's  length  and  gazing  at  her  grimy  face.  '  *  Mandy, ' ' 
he  said,  "I  believe  you  are  improving  every  day  in 


THE   ILLUSIVE    COPPERHEAD   83 

your  appearance,  but  you  never  looked  so  stunning 
as  this  blessed  minute."  Again  he  laughed  aloud. 
He  was  white  and  trembling. 

"But  the  house,  Allan!" 

"Oh,  yes,  by  the  way,"  he  said,  "the  house.  And 
who's  the  Johnny  carrying  water  there?" 

"Oh,  I  quite  forgot.    That's  Thatcher's  new  man." 

"Bather  wobbly  about  the  knees,  isn't  he?"  cried 
Cameron.  * '  By  Jove,  Mandy !  I  feared  I  should  never 
see  you  again,"  he  said  in  a  voice  that  trembled  and 
broke.  "And  what's  the  chap's  name?"  he  inquired. 

"Smith,  I  think,"  said  Mandy. 

"Smith?  Fine  fellow!  Most  useful  name!"  cried 
Cameron. 

"What's  the  matter,  Allan?" 

' '  The  matter  ?  Nothing  now,  Mandy.  Nothing  mat- 
ters. I  was  afraid  that — but  no  matter.  Hello,  here 's 
the  Inspector!" 

"Dear  Mrs.  Cameron,"  cried  the  Inspector,  taking 
both  her  hands  in  his,  "I'm  awfully  glad  there's  noth- 
ing wrong." 

"Nothing  wrong?    Look  at  that  house!" 

"Oh,  yes,  awfully  sorry.  But  we  were  afraid — of 
that — eh — that  is " 

"Yes,  lyTandy,"  said  her  husband,  making  visible 
efforts  to  control  his  voice,  "we  frankly  were  afraid 
that  that  old  devil  Copperhead  had  come  this  way 
and " 

*  *  He  did ! ' '  cried  Mandy. 

"What?" 

' '  He  did.  Oh,  Allan,  I  was  going  to  tell  you  just  as 
the  Inspector  came,  and  I  am  so  sorry.  When  you 
left  I  wanted  to  help.  I  was  afraid  of  what  all  those 
Indians  might  do  to  you,  so  I  thought  I  would  ride 


84  THE   SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 

up  the  trail  a  bit.  I  got  near  to  where  it  branches  off 
toward  the  Reserve  near  by  those  pine  trees.  There 
I  saw  a  man  come  tearing  along  on  a  pony.  It  was 
this  Indian.  I  drew  aside.  He  was  just  going  past 
when  he  glanced  at  me.  He  stopped  and  came  rushing 
at  me,  waving  a  pistol  in  his  hand.  Oh,  such  a  face! 
I  wonder  I  ever  thought  him  fine-looking.  He  caught 
me  by  the  arm.  I  thought  his  fingers  would  break  the 
bone.  Look ! '  '  She  pulled  up  her  sleeve,  and  upon 
the  firm  brown  flesh  blue  and  red  finger  marks  could 
be  seen.  "He  caught  me  and  shook  me  and  fairly 
yelled  at  me,  'You  save  my  boy  once.  Me  save  you 
to-day.  Next  time  me  see  your  man  me  kill  him. '  He 
flung  me  away  from  him  and  nearly  off  my  horse — such 
eyes!  such  a  face! — and  went  galloping  off  down  the 
trail.  I  feared  I  was  going  to  be  ill,  so  I  came  on 
homeward.  When  I  reached  the  top  of  the  hill  I  saw 
the  smoke  and  by  the  time  I  arrived  the  house  was 
blazing  and  Smith  was  carrying  water  to  put  out  the 
fire  where  it  had  caught  upon  the  smoke  house  and 
s  table  a." 

The  men  listened  to  her  story  with  tense  white  faces. 
When  she  had  finished  Cameron  said  quietly: 

"Mandy,  roll  me  up  some  grub  in  a  blanket." 

"Where  are  you  going,  Allan?"  her  face  pale  as  his 
own. 

* '  Going  ?    To  get  my  hands  on  that  Indian 's  throat ' ' 

"But  not  now!" 

"Yes,  now,"  he  said,  moving  toward  his  horse. 

"What  about  me,  Allan?" 

The  word  arrested  him  as  if  a  hand  had  gripped 
him. 

"You,"  he  said  in  a  dazed  manner.  "Why,  Mandy, 
of  course,  there's  you.  He  might  have  killed  you." 


THE   ILLUSIVE    COPPERHEAD    85 

Then,  shaking  his  shoulders  as  if  throwing  off  a  load, 
he  said  impatiently,  * '  Oh,  I  am  a  fool.  That  devil  has 
sent  me  off  my  head.  I  tell  you  what,  Mandy,  we 
will  feed  first,  then  we  will  make  new  plans." 

"And  there  is  Moira,  too,"  said  Mandy. 

"Yes,  there  is  Moira.  We  will  plan  for  her  too. 
After  all, ' '  he  continued,  with  a  slight  laugh  and  with 
slow  deliberation,  "there's — lots — of  time — to — get 
him!" 


86  THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

CHAPTER   VII 

THE   SAECEE   CAMP 

THE  sun  had  reached  the  peaks  of  the  Rockies 
far  in  the  west,  touching  their  white  with  red, 
and  all  the  lesser  peaks  and  all  the  rounded 
hills  between  with  great  splashes  of  gold  and  blue  and 
purple.  It  is  the  sunset  and  the  sunrise  that  make 
the  foothill  country  a  world  of  mystery  and  of  beauty, 
a  world  to  dream  about  and  long  for  in  later  days. 

Through  this  mystic  world  of  gold  and  blue  and 
purple  drove  Cameron  and  his  wife,  on  their  way  to 
the  little  town  of  Calgary,  three  days  after  the  ruth- 
less burning  of  their  home.  As  the  sun  dipped  behind 
the  western  peaks  they  reached  the  crossing  of  the 
Elbow  and  entered  the  wide  Bow  Valley,  upon  whose 
level  plain  was  situated  the  busy,  ambitious  and  would- 
be  wicked  little  pioneer  town.  The  town  and  plain  lay 
bathed  in  a  soft  haze  of  rosy  purple  that  lent  a  kind 
of  Oriental  splendor  to  the  tawdry,  unsightly  cluster 
of  shacks  that  sprawled  here  and  there  in  irregular 
bunches  on  the  prairie. 

"What  a  picture  it  makes!"  cried  Mandy.  "How 
wonderful  this  great  plain  with  its  encircling  rivers, 
those  hills  with  the  great  peaks  beyond !  "What  a  site 
for  a  town!" 

"There  is  no  finer,"  replied  her  husband,  "any- 
where in  the  world  that  I  know,  unless  it  be  that  of 
'Auld  Reekie.'  " 

"Meaning?" 

"Meaning!"  he  echoed  indignantly.  "What  else 
but  the  finest  of  all  the  capitals  of  Europe?" 

'  *  London  ? ' '  inquired  Mandy. 


THE    SARCEE    CAMP  87 

"London!"  echoed  her  husband  contemptuously. 
"You  ignorant  Colonial!  Edinburgh,  of  course.  But 
this  is  perfectly  splendid,"  he  continued.  "I  never 
get  used  to  the  wonder  of  Calgary.  You  see  that  deep 
cut  between  those  peaks  in  the  far  west?  That  is 
where  'The  Gap'  lies,  through  which  the  Bow  flows 
toward  us.  A  great  site  this  for  a  great  town  some 
day.  But  you  ought  to  see  these  peaks  in  the  morning 
with  the  sunlight  coming  up  from  the  east  across  the 
foothills  and  falling  upon  them.  Whoa,  there! 
Steady,  Pepper!"  he  cried  to  the  broncho,  which  owed 
its  name  to  the  speckled  appearance  of  its  hide,  and 
which  at  the  present  moment  was  plunging  and  kicking 
at  a  dog  that  had  rushed  out  from  an  Indian  encamp- 
ment close  by  the  trail.  "Did  you  never  see  an  Indian 
dog  before?" 

* '  Oh,  Allan, ' '  cried  Mandy  with  a  shudder,  ' '  do  you 
know  I  can 't  bear  to  look  at  an  Indian  since  last  week, 
and  I  used  to  like  them." 

"Hardly  fair,  though,  to  blame  the  whole  race  for 
the  deviltry  of  one  specimen." 

"I  know  that,  but " 

"This  is  a  Sarcee  camp,  I  fancy.  They  are  a  cun- 
ning lot  and  not  the  most  reliable  of  the  Indians.  Let 
me  see — three — four  teepees.  Ought  to  be  fifteen  or 
twenty  in  that  camp.  Only  squaws  about.  The  braves 
apparently  are  in  town  painting  things  up  a  bit." 

A  quarter  of  a  mile  past  the  Indian  encampment 
the  trail  made  a  sharp  turn  into  what  appeared  to 
be  the  beginning  of  the  main  street  of  the  town. 

' '  By  Jove ! ' '  cried  Cameron.  ' '  Here  they  come.  Sit 
tight,  Mandy."  He  pointed  with  his  whip  down  the 
trail  to  what  seemed  to  be  a  rolling  cloud  of  dust, 


88  THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

vocal  with  wild  whoops  and  animated  with  plunging 
figures  of  men  and  ponies. 

" Steady,  there,  boys!  Get  on!"  cried  Cameron  to 
his  plunging,  jibing  bronchos,  who  were  evidently  un- 
willing to  face  that  rolling  cloud  of  dust  with  its  mass 
of  shrieking  men  and  galloping  ponies  thundering 
down  upon  them.  Swift  and  fierce  upon  their  flanks 
fell  the  hissing  lash.  "  Stand  up  to  them,  you  beg- 
gars!" he  shouted  to  his  bronchos,  which  seemed  in- 
tent upon  turning  tail  and  joining  the  approaching 
cavalcade.  t '  Hie,  there !  Hello !  Look  out ! "  he 
yelled,  standing  up  in  his  wagon,  waving  his  whip  and 
holding  his  bronchos  steadily  on  the  trail.  The  next 
moment  the  dust  cloud  enveloped  them  and  the  thun- 
dering cavalcade,  parting,  surged  by  on  either  side. 
Cameron  was  wild  with  rage. 

"Infernal  cheeky  brutes!"  he  cried.  "For  two 
shillings  I'd  go  back  and  break  some  of  their  necks. 
Eide  me  down,  would  they?"  he  continued,  grinding 
his  teeth  in  fury. 

He  pulled  up  his  bronchos  with  half  a  mind  to  turn 
them  about  and  pursue  the  flying  Indians.  His  experi- 
ence and  training  with  the  Mounted  Police  made  it  dif- 
ficult for  him  to  accept  with  equal  mind  what  he  called 
the  infernal  cheek  of  a  bunch  of  Indians.  At  the  en- 
treaties of  his  wife,  however,  he  hesitated  in  carrying 
his  purpose  into  effect. 

' '  Let  them  go, ' '  said  Mandy.  ' '  They  didn  't  hurt  us, 
after  all." 

"Didn't!  No  thanks  to  them.  They  might  have 
killed  you.  Well,  I  shall  see  about  this  later."  He 
gave  his  excited  bronchos  their  head  and  sailed  into 
town,  drawing  up  in  magnificent  style  at  the  Royal 
Hotel. 


THE    SARCEE    CAMP  89 

An  attendant  in  cowboy  garb  came  lounging  up. 

1  '  Hello,  Billy ! ' '  cried  Cameron.    « *  Still  blooming? ' ' 

1 '  Sure !  And  rosebuds  ain  't  in  it  with  you,  Colonel. ' ' 
Billy  was  from  the  land  of  colonels.  " You've  got  a 
whole  garden  with  you  this  trip,  eh?" 

' '  My  wife,  Billy, ' '  replied  Cameron,  presenting  her. 

Billy  pulled  off  his  Stetson. 

"  Proud  to  meet  you,  madam.  Hope  I  see  you  well 
and  happy." 

"Yes,  indeed,  well  and  happy,"  cried  Mandy  em- 
phatically. 

"Sure  thing,  if  looks  mean  anything,"  said  Billy, 
admiration  glowing  in  his  eyes. 

"Take  the  horses,  Billy.  They  have  come  a  hun- 
dred and  fifty  miles." 

"Hundred  and  fifty,  eh?  They  don't  look  it.  But 
I'll  take  care  of  'em  all  right.  You  go  right  in." 

"I  shall  be  back  presently,  Billy,"  said  Cameron, 
passing  into  the  dingy  sitting-room  that  opened  off 
the  bar. 

In  a  few  minutes  he  had  his  wife  settled  in  a  frowsy 
little  eight-by-ten  bedroom,  the  best  the  hotel  afforded, 
and  departed  to  attend  to  his  team,  make  arrange- 
ments for  supper  and  inquire  about  the  incoming  train. 
The  train  he  found  to  be  three  hours  late.  His  team 
he  found  in  the  capable  hands  of  Billy,  who  was  un- 
harnessing and  rubbing  them  down.  While  ordering 
his  supper  a  hand  gripped  his  shoulder  and  a  voice 
shouted  in  his  ear: 

"Hello,  old  sport!    How  goes  it?" 

"Martin,  old  boy!"  shouted  Cameron  in  reply. 
"It's  awfully  good  to  see  you.  How  did  you  get  here! 
Oh,  yes,  of  course,  I  remember.  You  left  the  con- 
struction camp  and  came  here  to  settle  down."  All 


90  THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

the  while  Cameron  was  speaking  he  was  shaking  his 
friend's  hand  with  both  of  his.  ''By  Jove,  but  you're 
fit ! "  he  continued,  running  his  eye  over  the  slight  but 
athletic  figure  of  his  friend. 

"Fit!  Never  fitter,  not  even  in  the  old  days  when 
I  used  to  pass  the  pigskin  to  you  out  of  the  scrimmage. 
But  you?  You're  hardly  up  to  the  mark."  The  keen 
gray  eyes  searched  Cameron's  face.  "What's  up 
with  you?" 

' '  Oh,  nothing.  A  little  extra  work  and  a  little  worry, 
but  I'll  tell  you  later." 

"Well,  what  are  you  on  to  now?"  inquired  Martin. 

"Ordering  our  supper.  We've  just  come  in  from 
a  hundred  and  fifty  miles'  drive." 

"Supper?  Your  wife  here  too?  Glory!  It's  up  to 
me,  old  boy!  Look  here,  Connolly,"  he  turned  to  the 
proprietor  behind  the  bar,  "a  bang-up  supper  for 
three.  All  the  season's  delicacies  and  all  the  courses 
in  order.  As  you  love  me,  Connolly,  do  us  your  pret- 
tiest. And  soon,  awfully  soon.  A  hundred  and  fifty 
miles,  remember.  Now,  then,  how's  my  old  nurse?" 
he  continued,  turning  back  to  Cameron.  "She  was 
my  nurse,  remember,  till  you  came  and  stole  her." 

"She  was,  eh?  Ask  her,"  laughed  Cameron.  "But 
she  will  be  glad  to  see  you.  Where's  my  nurse,  then, 
my  little  nurse,  who  saw  me  through  a  fever  and  a 
broken  leg?" 

* '  Oh,  she 's  up  in  the  mountains  still,  in  the  construc- 
tion camp.  I  proposed  to  bring  her  down  here  with 
me,  but  there  was  a  riot.  I  barely  escaped.  If  ever 
she  gets  out  from  that  camp  it  will  be  when  they  are 
all  asleep  or  when  she  is  in  a  box  car." 

1 '  Come  along,  then, ' '  cried  Cameron.    * '  I  have  much 


THE    SAECEE    CAMP  91 

to  tell  yon,  and  my  wife  will  be  glad  to  see  you.  My 
sister  comes  in  by  No.  1,  do  you  know?" 

"Your  sister?  By  No.  1?  You  don't  say!  Why, 
I  never  thought  your  sister — by  No.  1,  eh!" 

"Yes,  by  No.  1." 

"Say,  Doc,"  said  the  hotel  man,  breaking  into  the 
conversation.  "There's  a  bunch  of  'em  comin'  in, 
ain't  there?  Who's  the  lady  you  was  expectin'  your- 
self on  No.  1?" 

"Lady?"  said  Cameron.    "What's  this,  Martin?" 

"Me?  Wake  up,  Connolly,  you're  walking  in  your 
sleep,"  violently  signaling  to  the  hotel  man. 

"Oh,  it  won't  do,  Martin,"  said  Cameron  with  grave 
concern.  "You  may  as  well  own  up.  Who  is  it? 
Come.  By  Jove!  What?  A  blush?  And  on  that 
asbestos  cheek?  Something  here,  sure  enough." 

"Oh,  rot,  Cameron!  Connolly  is  a  well-known  som- 
nambulist. ' ' 

"Sure  thing!"  said  Connolly.  "Is  it  catchin,'  for 
I  guess  you  had  the  same  thing  last  night?" 

"Connolly,  you've  gone  batty!    You  need  a  nurse." 

"A  nurse?  Maybe  so.  Maybe  so.  But  I  guess 
you've  got  to  the  point  where  you  need  a  preacher. 
Ha!  ha!  Got  you  that  time,  Doc!"  laughed  the  hotel 
man,  winking  at  Cameron. 

"Oh,  let  it  out,  Martin.  You'll  feel  better  after- 
ward. Who  is  it?" 

"Cameron,  so  help  me!  Connolly  is  an  infernal 
ass.  He's  batty,  I  tell  you.  I'm  treating  him  for  it 
right  now." 

"All  right,"  said  Cameron,  "never  mind.  I  shall 
run  up  and  tell  my  wife  you  are  here.  Wait  for  me, ' ' 
he  cried,  as  he  ran  up  the  stairs. 


92  THE   SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 

* '  Connolly,  you  fool !  I  '11  knock  your  wooden  block 
off!"  said  the  doctor  in  a  fury. 

"But,  Doc,  you  did  say " 

"Oh,  confound  you!    Shut  up!    It  was " 

"But  you  did  say " 

"Will  you  shut  up?" 

"Certain,  sure  I'll  shut  up.    But  you  said " 

"Look  here!"  broke  in  the  doctor  impatiently. 
"He'll  be  down  in  a  minute.  I  don't  want  him  to 
know. ' ' 

"Aw,  Doc,  cut  it  out!    He  ain't  no  Lady  Clara." 

"Connolly,  close  that  trap  of  yours  and  listen  to 
me.  This  is  serious.  He'll  be  back  in  a  jiffy.  It's 
the  same  lady  as  he  is  going  to  meet. ' ' 

"Same  lady?    But  she's  his  sister." 

"Yes,  of  course,  you  idiot!  She's  his  sister.  And 
now  you've  queered  me  with  him  and  he  will 
think " 

"Aw,  Doc,  let  me  be.  I'll  straighten  that  tangle 
out." 

*  *  Sh-h !    Here  he  is.    Not  a  word,  on  your  life ! ' ' 

"Aw,  get  out!"  replied  Connolly  with  generous  en- 
thusiasm. "I  don't  leave  no  pard  of  mine  in  a  hole. 
Say, ' '  he  cried,  turning  to  Cameron,  ' l  about  that  lady. 
Ha!  ha!" 

"Shut  your  ugly  mug!"  said  the  doctor  savagely. 

"It's  the  same  lady.  Ha!  ha!  Good  joke,  eh,  Ser- 
geant?" 

"Same  lady?"  echoed  Cameron. 

"Sure,  same  lady." 

"What  does  he  mean,  Martin?" 

"The  man's  drunk,  Cameron.  He  got  a  permit 
last  week  and  he  hasn  't  been  sober  for  a  day  since. ' ' 


THE    SAECEE    CAMP  93 

"Ha!  ha!"  laughed  Connolly  again.  "Wish  I  had 
a  chance." 

"But  the  lady?"  said  Cameron,  looking  at  his  friend 
suspiciously.  "And  these  blushes?" 

"Oh,  well,  hang  it!"  said  Martin.  "I  suppose  I 
might  as  well  tell  you.  I  found  out  that  your  sister 
was  to  be  in  on  this  train,  and  in  case  you  should  not 
turn  up  I  told  Connolly  here  to  have  a  room  ready." 

"Oh,"  said  Cameron,  with  his  eyes  upon  his  friend's 
face.  "You  found  out?  And  how  did  you  find  out 
that  Moira  was  coming?" 

"Well,"  said  Martin,  his  face  growing  hotter  with 
every  word  of  explanation,  "you  have  a  wife  and  we 
have  a  mutual  friend  in  our  little  nurse,  and  that's 
how  I  learned.  And  so  I  thought  I  'd  be  on  hand*  any- 
way. You  remember  I  met  your  sister  up  at  your 
Highland  home  with  the  unpronounceable  name." 

"Ah,  yes!  Cuagh  Oir.  Dear  old  spot!"  said  Cam- 
eron reminiscently.  "Moira  will  be  heart  broken 
every  day  when  she  sees  the  Big  Horn  Ranch,  I'm 
afraid.  But  here  comes  Mandy. ' ' 

The  meeting  between  the  doctor  and  Cameron's 
wife  was  like  that  between  old  comrades  in  arms,  as 
indeed  they  had  been  through  many  a  hard  fight  with 
disease,  accident  and  death  during  the  construction 
days  along  the  line  of  the  Canadian  Pacific  Railway 
through  the  Rocky  Mountains. 

A  jolly  hour  they  had  together  at  supper,  exchang- 
ing news  and  retailing  the  latest  jokes.  And  then 
Cameron  told  his  friend  the  story  of  old  Copperhead 
and  of  the  task  laid  upon  him  by  Superintendent 
Strong.  Martin  listened  in  grave  silence  till  the  tale 
was  done,  then  said  with  quiet  gravity: 


94  THE    SUN   DANCE    TEAIL 

" Cameron,  this  is  a  serious  business.  Why!  It's 
— it's  terrible." 

"Yes,"  replied  Mandy  quickly,  ''but  you  can  see 
that  he  must  do  it.  We  have  quite  settled  that.  You 
see  there  are  the  women  and  children." 

"And  is  there  no  one  else?    Surely " 

"No,  there  is  no  one  else  quite  so  fit  to  do  it," 
said  Mandy. 

"By  Jove,  you're  a  wonder!"  cried  Martin,  his  face 
lighting  up  with  sudden  enthusiasm. 

"Not  much  of  a  wonder,"  she  replied,  a  quick 
tremor  in  her  voice.  "Not  much  of  a  wonder,  I'm 
afraid.  But  how  could  I  keep  him?  I  couldn't  keep 
him,  could  I,"  she  said,  "if  his  country  needs  him?" 

The  doctor  glanced  at  her  face  with  its  appealing 
deep  blue  eyes. 

* '  No,  by  Jove !    You  couldn  't  keep  him,  not  you. ' ' 

"Now,  Mandy,"  said  Cameron,  "you  must  upstairs 
and  to  bed."  He  read  aright  the  signs  upon  her  face. 
"You  are  tired  and  you  will  need  all  the  sleep  you 
can  get.  Wait  for  me,  Martin,  I'll  be  down  in  a  few 
moments." 

When  they  reached  their  room  Cameron  turned  and 
took  his  wife  in  his  arms. 

"Mandy!  as  Martin  says,  you  are  wonderful.  You 
are  a  brave  woman.  You  have  nerve  enough  for  both 
of  us,  and  you  will  need  to  have  nerve  for  both,  for  how 
I  am  going  to  leave  you  I  know  not.  But  now  you 
must  to  bed.  I  have  a  little  business  to  attend  to. ' ' 

"Business?"  inquired  his  wife. 

"Yes.  Oh,  I  won't  try  to  hide  it  from  you,  Mandy. 
It's  'The  Big  Business.'  We  are — Dr.  Martin  and  I — 
going  up  to  the  Barracks.  Superintendent  Strong  has 


THE    SAECEE    CAMP  95 

jome  down  for  a  consultation. ' '  He  paused  and  looked 
nto  his  wife's  face.  "I  must  go,  dear." 

"Yes,  yes,  I  know,  Allan.  You  must  go.  But — 
lo  you  know — it's  foolish  to  say  it,  but  as  those  In- 
lians  passed  us  I  fancied  I  saw  the  face  of  Copper- 
lead. ' ' 

"Hardly,  I  fancy,'*  said  her  husband  with  a  laugh. 
'He'd  know  better  than  run  into  this  town  in  open 
lay  just  now.  All  Indians  will  look  to  you  like  old 
Copperhead  for  a  while. ' ' 

"It  may  be  so.  I  fancy  I'm  a  little  nervous.  But 
jome  back  soon." 

"You  may  be  sure  of  that,  sweetheart.  Meantime 
sleep  well." 

The  little  town  of  Calgary  stands  on  one  of  the 
nost  beautiful  town-sites  in  all  the  world.  A  great 
Dlain  with  ramparts  of  hills  on  every  side,  encircled 
)y  the  twin  mountain  rivers,  the  Bow  and  the  Elbow, 
werlooked  by  rolling  hills  and  far  away  to  the  west 
>y  the  mighty  peaks  of  the  Eockies,  it  holds  at  once 
imple  space  and  unusual  picturesque  beauty.  The 
ittle  town  itself  was  just  emerging  from  its  early 
lays  as  a  railway  construction-camp  and  was  begin- 
ling  to  develop  ambitions  toward  a  well-ordered  busi- 
less  activity  and  social  stability.  It  was  an  all-night 
town,  for  the  simple  and  sufficient  reason  that  its  com- 
munications with  the  world  lying  to  the  east  and  to 
the  west  began  with  the  arrival  of  No.  2  at  half -past 
twelve  at  night  and  No.  1  at  five  o  'clock  next  morning. 
Pew  of  its  citizens  thought  it  worth  while  to  settle 
iown  for  the  night  until  after  the  departure  of  No. 
2  on  its  westward  journey. 

Through  this  "all-night"  little  town  Cameron  and 
the  doctor  took  their  way.  The  sidewalks  were  still 


96  THE   SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 

thronged,  the  stores  still  doing  business,  the  restau- 
rants, hotels,  pool-rooms  all  wide  open.  It  kept  Ser- 
geant Crisp  busy  enough  running  out  the  "tin-horn" 
gamblers  and  whisky-peddlers,  keeping  guard  over  the 
fresh  and  innocent  lambs  that  strayed  in  from  the 
East  and  across  from  the  old  land  ready  for  shearing, 
and  preserving  law  and  order  in  this  hustling  frontier 
town.  Money  was  still  easy  in  the  town,  and  had 
Sergeant  Crisp  been  minded  for  the  mere  closing  of 
his  eyes  or  turning  of  his  back  upon  occasion  he  might 
have  retired  early  from  the  Force  with  a  competency. 
Unhappily  for  Sergeant  Crisp,  however,  there  stood 
in  the  pathway  of  his  fortune  the  awkward  fact  of  his 
conscience  and  his  oath  of  service.  Consequently  he 
was  forced  to  grub  along  upon  the  munificent  bounty 
of  the  daily  pay  with  which  Her  Majesty  awarded  the 
faithful  service  of  the  non-coms,  in  her  North  West 
Mounted  Police  Force.  And  indeed  through  all  the 
wide  reaches  of  that  great  West  land  during  those 
pioneer  days  and  among  all  the  officers  of  that  gallant 
force  no  record  can  be  found  of  an  officer  who  counted 
fortune  dearer  than  honor. 

Through  this  wide  awake,  wicked,  but  well-watched 
little  town  Cameron  with  his  friend  made  his  way 
westward  toward  the  Barracks  to  keep  his  appoint- 
ment with  his  former  Chief,  Superintendent  Strong. 
The  Barracks  stood  upon  the  prairie  about  half  a  mile 
distant  from  the  town.  They  found  Superintendent 
Strong  fuming  with  impatience,  which  he  controlled 
with  difficulty  while  Cameron  presented  his  friend. 

"Well,  Cameron,  you've  come  at  last,"  was  his  salu- 
tation when  the  introduction  was  completed.  "When 
did  you  get  into  town?  I  have  been  waiting  all  day  to 
see  you.  Where  have  you  been?" 


THE    SAECEE    CAMP  97 

"Arrived  an  hour  ago,"  said  Cameron  shortly,  for 
le  did  not  half  like  the  Superintendent's  brusque  man- 
ler.  ' l  The  trail  was  heavy  owing  to  the  rain  day  be- 
:ore  yesterday." 

''When  did  you  leave  the  ranch?"  inquired  Ser- 
geant Crisp. 

"Yesterday  morning,"  said  Cameron.  "The  colts 
ivere  green  and  I  couldn't  send  them  along." 

"Yesterday  morning!"  exclaimed  Sergeant  Crisp. 
'You  needn't  apologize  for  the  colts,  Cameron." 

"I  wasn't  apologizing  for  anybody  or  anything.  I 
ivas  making  a  statement  of  fact,"  replied  Cameron 
3urtly. 

"Ah,  yes,  very  good  going,  Cameron.  Very  good 
^oing,  indeed,  I  should  say,"  said  the  Superintendent, 
conscious  of  his  own  brusqueness  and  anxious  to  ap- 
pease. "Did  Mrs.  Cameron  come  with  you?" 

"She  did." 

"Indeed.  That  is  a  long  drive  for  a  lady  to  make, 
Cameron.  Too  long  a  drive,  I  should  say.  I  hope  she 
LS  quite  well,  not — eh — over-fatigued?" 

'  *  She  is  quite  well,  thank  you. ' ' 

"Well,  she  is  an  old  campaigner,"  said  the  Super- 
intendent with  a  smile,  '  *  and  not  easily  knocked  up  if 
[  remember  her  aright.  But  I  ought  to  say,  Cameron, 
how  very  deeply  I  appreciate  your  very  fine — indeed 
very  handsome  conduct  in  volunteering  to  come  to  our 
assistance  in  this  matter.  Very  handsome  indeed  I 
call  it.  It  will  have  a  good  effect  upon  the  community. 
I  appreciate  the  sacrifice.  The  Commissioner  and  the 
whole  Force  will  appreciate  it.  But,"  he  added,  as 
if  to  himself,  "before  we  are  through  with  this  busi- 
ness I  fear  there  will  be  more  sacrifice  demanded  from 
all  of  us.  I  trust  none  of  us  will  be  found  wanting. ' ' 


98  THE    SUN   DANCE    TEAIL 

The  Superintendent's  voice  was  unduly  solemn,  his 
manner  almost  somber.  Cameron  was  impressed  with 
this  manifestation  of  feeling  so  unusual  with  the  Su- 
perintendent. 

"Any  more  news,  sir?"  he  inquired. 

"Yes,  every  post  brings  news  of  seditious  meetings 
up  north  along  the  Saskatchewan  and  of  indifference 
on  the  part  of  the  Government.  And  further,  I  have 
the  most  conclusive  evidence  that  our  Indians  are  be- 
ing tampered  with,  and  successfully  too.  There  is  no 
reason  to  doubt  that  the  head  chiefs  have  been  ap- 
proached and  that  many  of  the  minor  chiefs  are  listen- 
ing to  the  proposals  of  Biel  and  his  half-breeds.  But 
you  have  some  news  to  give,  I  understand?  Dickson 
said  you  would  give  me  particulars." 

Thereupon  Cameron  briefly  related  the  incidents  in 
connection  with  the  attempted  arrest  of  the  Sioux 
Chief,  and  closed  with  a  brief  account  of  the  burning 
of  his  home. 

"That  is  most  daring,  most  serious,"  exclaimed 
the  Superintendent.  "But  you  are  quite  certain  that 
it  was  the  Sioux  that  was  responsible  for  the  out- 
rage?" 

"Well,"  said  Cameron,  "he  met  my  wife  on  a  trail 
five  miles  away,  threatened  her,  and 

"Good  God,  Cameron!    Threatened  your  wife?" 

"Yes,  nearly  flung  her  off  her  horse,"  replied  Cam- 
eron, his  voice  quiet  and  even,  but  his  eyes  glowing 
like  fires  in  his  white  face. 

"Flung  her  off  her  horse?  But — he  didn't  injure 
her?"  replied  the  Superintendent. 

' '  Only  that  he  terrified  her  with  his  threats  and  then 
went  on  toward  the  house,  which  he  left  in  flames." 

"My  God,  Cameron!"  said  the  Superintendent,  ris- 


THESARCEECAMP  99 

ing  in  his  excitement.  "This  is  really  terrible.  You 
must  have  suffered  awful  anxiety.  I  apologize  for 
my  abrupt  manner  a  moment  ago/'  he  added,  offering 
his  hand.  "I'm  awfully  sorry." 

"It's  all  right,  Superintendent,"  replied  Cameron. 
"I'm  afraid  I  am  a  little  upset  myself." 

"But  what  a  God's  mercy  she  escaped!  How  came 
that,  I  wonder?" 

Then  Cameron  told  the  story  of  the  rescue  of  the 
Indian  boy. 

"That  undoubtedly  explains  it,"  exclaimed  the  Su- 
perintendent. "That  was  a  most  fortunate  affair.  Do 
an  Indian  a  good  turn  and  he  will  never  forget  it.  I 
shudder  to  think  of  what  might  have  happened,  for 
I  assure  you  that  this  Copperhead  will  stick  at  noth- 
ing. We  have  an  unusually  able  man  to  deal  with,  and 
we  shall  put  our  whole  Force  on  this  business  of  arrest- 
ing this  man.  Have  you  any  suggestions  yourself?" 

"No,"  said  Cameron,  "except  that  it  would  appear 
to  be  a  mistake  to  give  any  sign  that  we  were  very 
specially  anxious  to  get  him  just  now.  So  far  we  have 
not  shown  our  hand.  Any  concentrating  of  the  Force 
upon  his  capture  would  only  arouse  suspicion  and  de- 
feat our  aim,  while  my  going  after  him,  no  matter  how 
keenly,  will  be  accounted  for  on  personal  grounds." 

"There  is  something  in  that,  but  do  you  think  you 
can  get  him?" 

"I  am  going  to  get  him,"  said  Cameron  quietly. 

The  Superintendent  glanced  at  his  face. 

"By  Jove,  I  believe  you  will!  But  remember,  you 
can  count  on  me  and  on  my  Force  to  a  man  any  time 
and  every  time  to  back  you  up,  and  there's  my  hand 
on  it.  And  now,  let's  get  at  this  thing.  We  have 


100         THE   SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 

a  cunning  devil  to  do  with  and  he  has  gathered  about 
him  the  very  worst  elements  on  the  reserves." 

Together  they  sat  and  made  their  plans  till  far  on 
into  the  night.  But  as  a  matter  of  fact  they  could 
make  little  progress.  They  knew  well  it  would  be  ex- 
tremely difficult  to  discover  their  man.  Owing  to  the 
state  of  feeling  throughout  the  reserves  the  source  of 
information  upon  which  the  Police  ordinarily  relied 
had  suddenly  dried  up  or  become  untrustworthy.  A 
marked  change  had  come  over  the  temper  of  the  In- 
dians. While  as  yet  they  were  apparently  on  friendly 
terms  and  guilty  of  no  open  breach  of  the  law,  a  sullen 
and  suspicious  aloofness  marked  the  bearing  of  the 
younger  braves  and  even  of  some  of  the  chiefs  toward 
the  Police.  Then,  too,  among  the  Piegans  in  the 
south  and  among  the  Sarcees  whose  reserve  was  in 
the  neighborhood  of  Calgary  an  epidemic  of  cattle- 
stealing  had  broken  out  and  the  Police  were  finding  it 
increasingly  difficult  to  bring  the  criminals  to  justice. 
Hence  with  this  large  increase  in  crime  and  with  the 
changed  attitude  and  temper  of  the  Indians  toward 
the  Police,  such  an  amount  of  additional  patrol-work 
was  necessary  that  the  Police  had  almost  reached  the 
limit  of  their  endurance. 

"In  fact,  we  have  really  a  difficult  proposition  be- 
fore us,  short-handed  as  we  are, ' '  said  the  Superinten- 
dent as  they  closed  their  interview.  ' '  Indeed,  if  things 
become  much  worse  we  may  find  it  necessary  to  or- 
ganize the  settlers  as  Home  Guards.  An  outbreak 
on  the  Saskatchewan  might  produce  at  any  moment 
the  most  serious  results  here  and  in  British  Columbia. 
Meantime,  while  we  stand  ready  to  help  all  we  can,  it 
looks  to  me,  Cameron,  that  you  are  right  and  that 
in  this  business  you  must  go  it  alone  pretty  much." 


THE    SAECEE    CAMP  101 

"I  realize  that,  sir,"  replied  Cameron.  "But  first 
I  must  get  my  house  built  and  things  in  shape,  then  I 
hope  to  take  this  up." 

''Most  certainly,"  replied  the  Superintendent. 
"Take  a  month.  He  can't  do  much  more  harm  in  a 
month,  and  meantime  we  shall  do  our  utmost  to  obtain 
information  and  we  shall  keep  you  informed  of  any- 
thing we  discover." 

The  Superintendent  and  Sergeant  accompanied 
Cameron  and  his  friend  to  the  door. 

"  It  is  a  black  night, ' '  said  Sergeant  Crisp.  *  *  I  hope 
they're  not  running  any  'wet  freight'  in  to-night." 

"It's  a  good  night  for  it,  Sergeant,"  said  Dr.  Mar- 
tin. "Do  you  expect  anything  to  come  in?" 

"I  have  heard  rumors,"  replied  the  Sergeant,  "and 
there  is  a  freight  train  standing  right  there  now  which 
I  have  already  gone  through  but  upon  which  it  is 
worth  while  still  to  keep  an  eye. ' ' 

"Well,  good-night,"  said  the  Superintendent,  shak- 
ing Cameron  by  the  hand.  "Keep  me  posted  and  when 
within  reach  be  sure  and  see  me.  Good-night,  Dr. 
Martin.  "We  may  want  you  too  before  long." 

"All  right,  sir,  you  have  only  to  say  the  word." 

The  night  was  so  black  that  the  trail  which  in  the 
daylight  was  worn  smooth  and  plainly  visible  was 
quite  blotted  out.  The  light  from  the  Indian  camp 
fire,  which  was  blazing  brightly  a  hundred  yards  away, 
helped  them  to  keep  their  general  direction. 

"For  a  proper  black  night  commend  me  to  the 
prairie,"  said  the  doctor.  "It  is  the  dead  level  does 
it,  I  believe.  There  is  nothing  to  cast  a  reflection  or 
a  shadow." 

"It  will  be  better  in  a  few  minutes,"  said  Cameron, 
"when  we  get  our  night  sight." 


102         THE   SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

"You  are  off  the  trail  a  bit,  I  think,"  said  the 
doctor. 

"Yes,  I  know.  I  am  hitting  toward  the  fire.  The 
light  makes  it  better  going  that  way." 

"I  say,  that  chap  appears  to  be  going  some.  Quite 
a  song  and  dance  he's  giving  them,"  said  the  doctor, 
pointing  to  an  Indian  who  in  the  full  light  of  the  camp 
fire  was  standing  erect  and,  with  hand  outstretched, 
was  declaiming  to  the  others,  who,  kneeling  or  squat- 
ting about  the  fire,  were  giving  him  rapt  attention. 
The  erect  figure  and  outstretched  arm  arrested  Cam- 
eron. A  haunting  sense  of  familiarity  floated  across 
his  memory. 

"Let's  go  nearer,"  he  said,  "and  quietly." 

With  extreme  caution  they  made  about  two-thirds  of 
the  distance  when  a  howl  from  an  Indian  dog  revealed 
their  presence.  At  once  the  speaker  who  had  been 
standing  in  the  firelight  sank  crouching  to  the  ground. 
Instantly  Cameron  ran  forward  a  few  swift  steps  and, 
like  a  hound  upon  a  deer,  leapt  across  the  fire  and 
fair  upon  the  crouching  Indian,  crying  "Call  the  Po- 
lice, Martin!" 

With  a  loud  cry  of  "Police!  Police!  Help  here!" 
Martin  sprang  into  the  middle  of  an  excited  group  of 
Indians.  Two  of  them  threw  themselves  upon  him, 
but  with  a  hard  right  and  left  he  laid  them  low  and, 
seizing  a  stick  of  wood,  sprang  toward  two  others  who 
were  seeking  to  batter  the  life  out  of  Cameron  as  he 
lay  gripping  his  enemy  by  the  throat  with  one  hand 
and  with  the  other  by  the  wrist  to  check  a  knife  thrust. 
Swinging  his  stick  around  his  head  and  repeating  his 
cry  for  help,  Martin  made  Cameron's  assailants  give 
back  a  space  and  before  they  could  renew  the  attack 
Sergeant  Crisp  burst  open  the  door  of  the  Barracks, 


THE    SAECEE    CAMP  103 

and,  followed  by  a  slim  young  constable  and  the  Su- 
perintendent, came  rushing  with  shouts  upon  the  scene. 
Immediately  upon  the  approach  of  the  Police  the  In- 
dians ceased  the  fight  and  all  that  could  faded  out  of 
the  light  into  the  black  night  around  them,  while  the 
Indian  who  continued  to  struggle  with  incredible 
fury  to  free  himself  from  Cameron's  grip  suddenly 
became  limp  and  motionless. 

"Now,  what's  all  this?"  demanded  the  Sergeant. 

"Why,  it's  you,  doctor,  and  where ?  You  don't 

mean  that's  Cameron  there?  Hello,  Cameron!"  he 
said,  leaning  over  him.  "Let  go!  He's  safe  enough. 
We  've  got  him  all  right.  Let  go !  By  Jove !  Are  they 
both  dead?" 

Here  the  Superintendent  came  up.  The  incidents 
leading  up  to  the  present  situation  were  briefly  de- 
scribed by  the  doctor. 

"I  can't  get  this  fellow  free,"  said  the  Sergeant, 
who  was  working  hard  to  release  the  Indian's  throat 
from  the  gripping  fingers.  He  turned  Cameron  over 
on  his  back.  He  was  quite  insensible.  Blood  was 
pouring  from  his  mouth  and  nose,  but  his  fingers  like 
steel  clamps  were  gripping  the  wrist  and  throat  of 
his  foe.  The  Indian  lay  like  dead. 

"Good  Lord,  doctor!  What  shall  we  do?"  cried  the 
Superintendent.  "Is  he  dead?" 

"No,"  said  Martin,  with  his  hand  upon  Cameron's 
heart.  "Bring  water.  You  can't  loosen  his  fingers 
till  he  revives.  The  blow  that  knocked  him  senseless 
set  those  fingers  as  they  are  and  they  will  stay  set 
thus  till  released  by  returning  consciousness." 

"Here  then,  get  water  quick!"  shouted  the  Super- 
intendent to  the  slim  young  constable. 

Gradually  as  the  water  was  splashed  upon  his  face 


104         THE   SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 

Cameron  came  back  to  life  and,  relaxing  his  fingers, 
stretched  himself  with  a  sigh  as  of  vast  relief  and 
lay  still. 

"Here,  take  that,  yon  beast!"  cried  the  Sergeant, 
dashing  the  rest  of  the  water  into  the  face  of  the  In- 
dian lying  rigid  and  motionless  on  the  ground.  A 
long  shudder  ran  through  the  Indian's  limbs.  Clutch- 
ing at  his  throat  with  both  hands,  he  raised  himself 
to  a  sitting  posture,  his  breath  coming  in  raucous 
gasps,  glared  wildly  upon  the  group,  then  sank  back 
upon  the  ground,  rolled  over  upon  his  side  and  lay 
twitching  and  breathing  heavily,  unheeded  by  the  doc- 
tor and  Police  who  were  working  hard  over  Cameron. 

"No  bones  broken,  I  think,"  said  the  doctor,  feel- 
ing the  battered  head.  "Here's  where  the  blow  fell 
that  knocked  him  out,"  pointing  to  a  ridge  that  ran 
along  the  side  of  Cameron's  head.  "A  little  lower,  a 
little  more  to  the  front  and  he  would  never  have  moved. 
Let's  get  him  in." 

Cameron  opened  his  eyes,  struggled  to  speak  and 
sank  back  again. 

"Don't  stir,  old  chap.  You're  all  right.  Don't 
move  for  a  bit.  Could  you  get  a  little  brandy,  Ser- 
geant?" 

Again  the  slim  young  constable  rushed  toward  the 
Barracks  and  in  a  few  moments  returned  with  the 
spirits.  After  taking  a  sip  of  the  brandy  Cameron 
again  opened  his  eyes  and  managed  to  say 
"Don't " 

"All  right,  old  chap,"  said  the  doctor.  "We  won't 
move  you  yet.  Just  lie  still  a  bit. ' '  But  as  once  more 
Cameron  opened  his  eyes  the  agony  of  the  appeal  in 
them  aroused  the  doctor's  attention.  "Something 
wrong,  eh?"  he  said.  "Are  you  in  pain,  old  boy?" 


THE    SARCEE    CAMP  105 

The  appealing  eyes  closed,  then,  opening  again, 
turned  toward  the  Superintendent. 

"Copperhead,"  he  whispered. 

"What  do  you  say?"  said  the  Superintendent  kneel- 
ing down. 

Once  more  with  painful  effort  Cameron  managed  to 
utter  the  word  "Copperhead." 

"Copperhead!"  ejaculated  the  Superintendent  in  a 
low  tense  voice,  springing  to  his  feet  and  turning  to- 
ward the  unconscious  Indian.  "He's  gone!"  he 
cried  with  a  great  oath.  "He's  gone!  Sergeant 
Crisp!"  he  shouted,  "Call  out  the  whole  Force!  Sur- 
round this  camp  and  hold  every  Indian.  Search  every 
teepee  for  this  fellow  who  was  lying  here.  Quick! 
Quick!"  Leaving  Cameron  to  the  doctor,  who  in  a 
few  minutes  became  satisfied  that  no  serious  injury 
had  been  sustained,  he  joined  in  the  search  with  fierce 
energy.  The  teepees  were  searched,  the  squaws  and 
papooses  were  ruthlessly  bundled  out  from  their 
slumbers  and  with  the  Indians  were  huddled  into  the 
Barracks.  But  of  the  Sioux  Chief  there  was  no  sign. 
He  had  utterly  vanished.  The  black  prairie  had  en- 
gulfed him. 

But  the  Police  had  their  own  methods.  Within  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  half  a  dozen  mounted  constables 
were  riding  off  in  different  directions  to  cover  the 
main  trails  leading  to  the  Indian  reserves  and  to  sweep 
a  wide  circle  about  the  town. 

"They  will  surely  get  him,"  said  Dr.  Martin  con- 
fidently. 

"Not  much  chance  of  it,"  growled  Cameron,  to 
whom  with  returning  consciousness  had  come  the  bit- 
ter knowledge  of  the  escape  of  the  man  he  had  come 
to  regard  as  his  mortal  enemy.  "I  had  him  fast 


106         THE   SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 

enough,"  he  groaned,  "in  spite  of  the  best  he  could 
do,  and  I  would  have  choked  his  life  out  had  it  not 
been  for  these  other  devils." 

"They  certainly  jumped  in  savagely,"  said  Martin. 
"In  fact  I  cannot  understand  how  they  got  at  the 
thing  so  quickly." 

"Didn't  you  hear  him  call?"  said  Cameron.  "It 
was  his  call  that  did  it.  Something  he  said  turned 
them  into  devils.  They  were  bound  to  do  for  me.  I 
never  saw  Indians  act  like  that. ' ' 

"Yes,  I  heard  that  call,  and  it  mighty  near  did  the 
trick  for  you.  Thank  Heaven  your  thick  Hielan '  skull 
saved  you." 

"How  did  they  let  him  go?"  again  groaned  Cam- 
eron. 

"How?  Because  he  was  too  swift  for  us,"  said  the 
Superintendent,  who  had  come  in,  "and  we  too  slow. 
I  thought  it  was  an  ordinary  Indian  row,  you  see,  but 
I  might  have  known  that  you  would  not  have  gone  in 
in  that  style  without  good  reason.  Who  would  think 
that  this  old  devil  should  have  the  impudence  to  camp 
right  here  under  our  nose?  Where  did  he  come  from 
anyway,  do  you  suppose?" 

"Been  to  the  Blackfoot  Eeserve  like  enough  and 
was  on  his  way  to  the  Sarcees  when  he  fell  in  with 
this  little  camp  of  theirs." 

"That's  about  it,"  replied  the  Superintendent 
gloomily.  "And  to  think  you  had  him  fast  and  we  let 
him  go ! " 

The  thought  brought  small  comfort  to  any  of  them, 
least  of  all  to  Cameron.  In  that  vast  foothill  country 
with  all  the  hidings  of  the  hills  and  hollows  there  was 
little  chance  that  the  Police  would  round  up  the  fugi- 


THE   SARCEE   CAMP  107 

tive,  and  upon  Cameron  still  lay  the  task  of  capturing 
this  cunning  and  resourceful  foe. 

"Never  mind,"  said  Martin  cheerily.  "Three  out, 
all  out.  You'll  get  him  next  time." 

"I  don't  know  about  that.  But  I'll  get  him  some 
time  or  he'll  get  me,"  replied  Cameron  as  his  face  set- 
tled into  grim  lines.  "Let's  get  back." 

"Are  you  quite  fit?"  inquired  the  Superintendent. 

"Fit  enough.  Sore  a  bit  in  the  head,  but  can  navi- 
gate," 

"I  can't  tell  you  how  disappointed  and  chagrined 

I  feel.  It  isn't  often  that  my  wits  are  so  slow  but " 

The  Superintendent's  jaws  here  cut  off  his  speech 
with  a  snap.  The  one  crime  reckoned  unpardonable 
in  the  men  under  his  own  command  was  that  of  failure 
and  his  failure  to  capture  old  Copperhead  thus  deliv- 
ered into  his  hands  galled  him  terribly. 

"Well,  good-night,  Cameron,"  said  the  Superinten- 
dent, looking  out  into  the  black  night.  "We  shall  let 
you  know  to-morrow  the  result  of  our  scouting,  though 
I  don't  expect  much  from  it.  He  is  much  too  clever  to 
be  caught  in  the  open  in  this  country." 

"Perhaps  he'll  skidoo,"  said  Dr.  Martin  hopefully. 

"No,  he's  not  that  kind,"  replied  the  Superinten- 
dent. "You  can't  scare  him  out.  You  have  got  to 
catch  him  or  kill  him. ' ' 

"I  think  you  are  right,  sir,"  said  Cameron.  "He 
will  stay  till  his  work  is  done  or  till  he  is  made  to 
quit." 

"That  is  true,  Cameron — till  he  is  made  to  quit — 
and  that's  your  job,"  said  the  Superintendent  sol- 
emnly. 

"Yes,  that  is  my  job,  sir,"  replied  Cameron  simply 
and  with  equal  solemnity.  "I  shall  do  my  best." 


108         THE   SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 

"We  have  every  confidence  in  you,  Cameron,'* 
replied  the  Superintendent.  ''Good-night,"  he  said 
again,  shutting  the  door. 

"Say,  old  man,  this  is  too  gruesome,"  said  Martin 
with  fierce  impatience.  ' '  I  can 't  see  why  it 's  up  to  you 
more  than  any  other." 

"The  Sun  Dance  Trail  is  the  trail  he  must  take  to 
do  his  work.  That  was  my  patrol  last  year — I  know 
it  best.  God  knows  I  don't  want  this — "  his  breath 

came  quick — "I  am  not  afraid — but — but  there's 

We  have  been  together  for  such  a  little  while,  you 
know."  He  could  get  no  farther  for  a  moment  or 
two,  then  added  quietly,  "But  somehow  I  know — yes 
and  she  knows — bless  her  brave  heart — it  is  my  job. 
I  must  stay  with  it." 


THE    GIRL   ON   NO.    1  109 


CHAPTER 

THE   GIRL,   ON    NO.   1. 

BY  the  time  they  had  reached  the  hotel  Cameron 
was  glad  enough  to  go  to  his  bed. 

"You  need  not  tell  your  wife,  I  suppose," 
said  the  doctor. 

"Tell  her?  Certainly!"  said  Cameron.  "She  is 
with  me  in  this.  I  play  fair  with  her.  Don't  you  fear, 
she  is  up  to  it." 

And  so  she  was,  and,  though  her  face  grew  white 
as  she  listened  to  the  tale,  never  for  a  moment  did 
her  courage  falter. 

'  '  Doctor,  is  Allan  all  right  ?  Tell  me,  '  '  she  said,  her 
big  blue  eyes  holding  his  in  a  steady  gaze. 

"Right  enough,  but  he  must  have  a  long  sleep.  You 
must  not  let  him  stir  at  five.  '  ' 

1  '  Then,  '  '  said  Mandy,  *  '  I  shall  go  to  meet  the  train, 
Allan." 

"But  you  don't  know  Moira." 

"No,  but  I  shall  find  her  out." 

'  '  Of  course,  '  '  said  Dr.  Martin  in  a  deprecating  tone, 
"I  know  Miss  Cameron,  but  -  " 

"Of  course  you  do,"  cried  Mandy.  "Why,  that  is 
splendid!  You  will  go  and  Allan  need  not  be  dis- 
turbed. She  will  understand.  Not  a  word,  now,  Al- 
lan. We  will  look  after  this,  the  doctor  and  I,  eh, 
Doctor?" 

"Why  —  eh  —  yes  —  yes  certainly,  of  course.  Why 
not?" 

"Why  not,  indeed?"  echoed  Mandy  briskly.  "She 
will  understand." 

And  thus  it  was  arranged.     Under  the  influence 


110         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

of  a  powder  left  by  Dr.  Martin,  Cameron,  after* an 
hour's  tossing,  fell  into  a  heavy  sleep. 

"I  am  so  glad  you  are  here,"  said  Mandy  to  the 
doctor,  as  he  looked  in  upon  her.  "You  are  sure 
there  is  no  injury?" 

"No,  nothing  serious.  Shock,  that's  all.  A  day's 
quiet  will  fix  him  up." 

"I  am  so  thankful,"  said  Mandy,  heaving  a  deep 
sigh  of  relief,  "and  I  am  so  glad  that  you  are  here. 
And  it  is  so  nice  that  you  know  Moira." 

"You  are  not  going  to  the  train!"  said  the  doctor. 

"No,  no,  there  is  no  need,  and  I  don't  like  to  leave 
him.  Besides  you  don't  need  me." 

"N-o-o,  no,  not  at  all — certainly  not,"  said  the  doc- 
tor with  growing  confidence.  "Good-night.  I  shall 
show  her  to  her  room." 

"Oh,"  cried  Mandy,  "I  shall  meet  you  when  you 
come.  Thank  you  so  much.  So  glad  you  are  here," 
she  added  with  a  tremulous  smile. 

The  doctor  passed  down  the  stairs. 

1 '  By  Jove,  she 's  a  brick ! "  he  said  to  himself.  ' '  She 
has  about  all  she  can  stand  just  now.  Glad  I  am 
here,  eh?  Well,  I  guess  I  am  too.  But.  what  about 
this  thing?  It's  up  to  me  now  to  do  the  Wild  West 
welcome  act,  and  I'm  scared — plain  scared  to  death. 
She  won't  know  me  from  a  goat.  Let's  see.  I've 
got  two  hours  yet  to  work  up  my  ginger.  I'll  have  a 
pipe  to  start  with." 

He  passed  into  the  bar,  where,  finding  himself  alone, 
he  curled  up  in  a  big  leather  chair  and  gave  himself 
up  to  his  pipe  and  his  dreams.  The  dingy  bar-room 
gave  place  to  a  little  sunny  glen  in  the  Highlands  of 
Scotland,  in  which  nestled  a  little  cluster  of  stone-built 
cottages,  moss-grown  and  rose-covered.  Far  down 


THEGIELONNO.l  111 

in  the  bottom  of  the  Glen  a  tiny  loch  gleamed  like  a 
jewel.  Up  on  the  hillside  above  the  valley  an  avenue 
of  ragged  pines  led  to  a  large  manor  house,  old, 
quaint,  but  dignified,  and  in  the  doorway  a  maiden 
stood,  grave  of  face  and  wonderfully  sweet,  in  whose 
brown  eyes  and  over  whose  brown  curls  all  the  glory 
of  the  little  Glen  of  the  Cup  of  Gold  seemed  to  gather. 
Through  many  pipes  he  pursued  his  dreams,  but  al- 
ways they  led  him  to  that  old  doorway  and  the  maiden 
with  the  grave  sweet  face  and  the  hair  and  eyes  full 
of  the  golden  sunlight  of  the  Glen  Cuagh  Oir. 

"Oh,  pshaw!"  he  grumbled  to  himself  at  last,  knock- 
ing the  ashes  from  his  pipe.  "She  has  forgotten  me. 
It  was  only  one  single  day.  But  what  a  day ! ' ' 

He  lit  a  fresh  pipe  and  began  anew  to  dream  of 
that  wonderful  day,  that  day  which  was  the  one  un- 
fading point  of  light  in  all  his  Old  Country  stay.  Not 
even  the  day  when  he  stood  to  receive  his  parchment 
and  the  special  commendation  of  the  Senatus  and  of 
his  own  professor  for  his  excellent  work  lived  with 
him  like  that  day  in  the  Glen.  Every  detail  of  the  pic- 
ture he  could  recall  and  ever  in  the  foreground  the 
maiden.  With  deliberate  purpose  he  settled  himself 
in  his  chair  and  set  himself  to  fill  in  those  fine  and 
delicate  touches  that  were  necessary  to  make  perfect 
the  foreground  of  his  picture,  the  pale  olive  face  with 
its  bewildering  frame  of  golden  waves  and  curls,  the 
clear  brown  eyes,  now  soft  and  tender,  now  flashing 
with  wrath,  and  the  voice  with  its  soft  Highland  ca- 
dence. 

"By  Jove,  I'm  dotty!  Clean  dotty!  I'll  make  an 
ass  of  myself,  sure  thing,  when  I  see  her  to-day."  He 
sprang  from  his  chair  and  shook  himself  together. 
"Besides,  she  has  forgotten  all  about  me."  He  looked 


112          THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

at  his  watch.  It  was  twenty  minutes  to  train-time. 
He  opened  the  door  and  looked  out.  The  chill  morning 
air  struck  him  sharply  in  the  face.  He  turned  quickly, 
snatched  his  overcoat  from  a  nail  in  the  hall  and  put 
it  on. 

At  this  point  Billy,  who  combined  in  his  own  person 
the  offices  of  ostler,  porter  and  clerk,  appeared,  his  lan- 
tern shining  with  a  dim  yellow  glare  in  the  gray  light 
of  the  dawn. 

"No.  1  is  about  due,  Doc,"  he  said. 

"She  is,  eh?  I  say,  Billy,"  said  the  Doctor,  "want 
to  do  something  for  me?"  He  pushed  a  dollar  at 
Billy  over  the  counter. 

"Name  it,  Doc,  without  further  insult,"  replied 
Billy,  shoving  the  dollar  back  with  a  lordly  scorn. 

"All  right,  Billy,  you're  a  white  little  soul.  Now 
listen.  I  want  your  ladies'  parlor  aired." 

"Aired?"  gasped  Billy. 

"Yes,  open  the  windows.  Put  on  a  fire.  I  have  a 
lady  coming — I  have — that  is — Sergeant  Cameron's 
sister  is  coming " 


< .  i 


;Say  no  more,"  said  Billy  with  a  wink.  "I  get 
you,  Doc.  But  what  about  the  open  window,  Doc? 
It's  rather  cold." 

"Open  it  up  and  put  on  a  fire.  Those  Old  Country 
people  are  mad  about  fresh  air." 

"All  right,  Doc,"  replied  Billy  with  another  know- 
ing wink.  "The  best  is  none  too  good  for  her,  eh?" 

"Look  here,  now,  Billy —  '  the  doctor's  tone  grew 
severe — "let's  have  no  nonsense.  This  is  Sergeant 
Cameron's  sister.  He  is  knocked  out,  unable  to  meet 
her.  I  am  taking  his  place.  Do  you  get  me?  Now 
be  quick.  If  you  have  any  think  juice  in  that  block 
of  yours  turn  it  on." 


THE   GIEL   ON   NO.   1  113 

Billy  twisted  one  ear  as  if  turning  a  cock,  and 
tapped  his  forehead  with  his  knuckles. 

"Doc,"  he  said  solemnly,  "she's  workin'  like  a 
watch,  full  jewel,  patent  lever." 

' '  All  right.  Now  get  on  to  this.  Sitting-room  aired, 
good  fire  going,  windows  open  and  a  cup  of  coffee." 

"Coffee?  Say,  Doc,  there  ain't  time.  What  about 
tea?" 

"You  know  well  enough,  Billy,  you  haven't  got  any 
but  that  infernal  green  stuff  fit  to  tan  the  stomach 
of  a  brass  monkey." 

"There's  another  can,  Doc.  I  know  where  it  is. 
Leave  it  to  me." 

"All  right,  Billy,  I  trust  you.  They  are  death  on 
tea  in  the  Old  Country.  And  toast,  Billy.  What 
about  toast?" 

"Toast?  Toast,  eh?  Well,  all  right,  Doc.  Toast 
it  is.  Trust  yours  truly.  You  keep  her  out  a-viewin' 
the  scenery  for  half  an  hour." 

"And  Billy,  a  big  pitcher  of  hot  water.  They  can't 
live  without  hot  water  in  the  morning,  those  Old  Coun- 
try people." 

' '  Sure  thing,  Doc.    A  tub  if  you  like. ' ' 

"No,  a  pitcher  will  do." 

At  this  point  a  long  drawn  whistle  sounded  through 
the  still  morning  air. 

1 1  There  she  goes,  Doc.  She  has  struck  the  grade. 
Say,  Doc " 

But  his  words  fell  upon  empty  space.  The  doctor 
had  already  disappeared. 

"Say,  he's  a  sprinter,"  said  Billy  to  himself.  "He 
ain't  takin'  no  chances  on  bein'  late.  Shouldn't  be 
surprised  if  the  Doc  got  there  all  right. ' ' 

He  darted  upstairs  and  looked  around  the  ladies' 


114         THE    SUN   DANCE    TEAIL 

parlor.  The  air  was  heavy  with  mingled  odors  of 
the  bar  and  the  kitchen.  A  spittoon  occupied  a  promi- 
nent place  in  the  center  of  the  room.  The  tables  were 
dusty,  the  furniture  in  confusion.  The  ladies'  parlor 
was  perfectly  familiar  to  Billy,  but  this  morning  he 
viewed  it  with  new  eyes. 

"Say,  the  Doc  ain't  fair.  He's  too  swift  in  his 
movements,"  he  muttered  to  himself  as  he  proceeded 
to  fling  things  into  their  places.  He  raised  the  win- 
dows, opened  the  stove  door  and  looked  in.  The  ashes 
of  many  fires  half  filling  the  box  met  his  eyes  with 
silent  reproach.  "Say,  the  Doc  ain't  fair,"  he  mut- 
tered again.  "Them  ashes  ought  to  have  been  out  of 
there  long  ago."  This  fact  none  knew  better  than 
himself,  inasmuch  as  there  was  no  other  from  whom 
this  duty  might  properly  be  expected.  Yet  it  brought 
some  small  relief  to  vent  his  disgust  upon  this  offend- 
ing accumulation  of  many  days'  neglect.  There  was 
not  a  moment  to  lose.  He  was  due  in  ten  minutes  to 
meet  the  possible  guests  for  the  Eoyal  at  the  train. 
He  seized  a  pail  left  in  the  hall  by  the  none  too  tidy 
housemaid  and  with  his  hands  scooped  into  it  the  ashes 
from  the  stove,  and,  leaving  a  cloud  of  dust  to  settle 
everywhere  upon  tables  and  chairs,  ran  down  with  his 
pail  and  back  again  with  kindling  and  firewood  and 
had  a  fire  going  in  an  extraordinarily  short  time.  He 
then  caught  up  an  ancient  antimacassar,  used  it  as  a 
duster  upon  chairs  and  tables,  flung  it  back  again  in 
its  place  over  the  rickety  sofa  and  rushed  for  the 
station  to  find  that  the  train  had  already  pulled  in, 
had  come  to  a  standstill  and  was  disgorging  its  pas- 
sengers upon  the  platform. 

<  <  Eoy— al  Ho— tel ! ' '  shouted  Billy.    ' l  Best  in  town ! 


THEGIRLONNO.l  115 

All  the  comforts  and  conveniences!  Yes,  sir!  Take 
your  grip,  sir?  Just  give  me  them  checks!  That's 
all  right,  leave  'em  to  me.  I'll  get  your  baggage 
all  right." 

He  saw  the  doctor  wandering  distractedly  up  and 
down  the  platform. 

"Hello,  Doc,  got  your  lady?  Not  on  the  Pullman, 
eh!  Take  a  look  in  the  First  Class.  Say,  Doc,"  he 
added  in  a  lower  voice,  coming  near  to  the  doctor, 
"what's  that  behind  you?" 

The  doctor  turned  sharply  and  saw  a  young  lady 
whose  long  clinging  black  dress  made  her  seem  taller 
than  she  was.  She  wore  a  little  black  hat  with  a  single 
feather  on  one  side,  which  gave  it  a  sort  of  tarn  o* 
shanter  effect.  She  came  forward  with  hand  out- 
stretched. 

"I  know  you,  Mr.  Martin,"  she  said  in  a  voice  that 
indicated  immense  relief. 

"You?"  he  cried.  "Is  it  you?  And  to  think  I 
didn't  know  you.  And  to  think  you  should  remember 
me." 

"Remember!  Well  do  I  remember  you — and  that 
day  in  the  Cuagh  Oir — but  you  have  forgotten  all  about 
that  day."  A  little  flush  appeared  on  her  pale  cheek. 

"Forgotten?"  cried  Martin. 

"But  you  didn't  know  me,"  she  added  with  a  slight 
severity  in  her  tone. 

"I  was  not  looking  for  you." 

"Not  looking  for  me?"  cried  the  girl.  "Then 

who ?"  She  paused  in  a  sudden  confusion,  and 

with  a  little  haughty  lift  of  her  head  said,  "Where  is 
Allan,  my  brother?" 

But  the  doctor  ignored  her  question.  He  was  gazing 
at  her  in  stupid  amazement. 


116         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

"I  was  looking  for  a  little  girl,"  he  said,  "in  a 
blue  serge  dress  and  tangled  hair,  brown,  and  all  curls, 
with  brown  eyes  and " 

"And  you  found  a  grown  up  woman  with  all  the 
silly  curls  in  their  proper  place — much  older — very 
much  older.  It  is  a  habit  we  have  in  Scotland  of  grow- 
ing older." 

"Older?" 

"Yes,  older,  and  more  sober  and  sensible — and 
^plainer. ' ' 

"Plainer?"  The  doctor's  mind  was  evidently  not 
working  with  its  usual  ease  and  swiftness,  partly 
from  amazement  at  the  transformation  that  had  re- 
sulted in  this  tall  slender  young  lady  standing  before 
him  with  her  stately  air,  and  partly  from  rage  at  him- 
self and  his  unutterable  stupidity. 

"But  you  have  not  answered  me,"  said  the  girl, 
obviously  taken  aback  at  the  doctor 's  manner.  * '  Where 
is  my  brother?  He  was  to  meet  me.  This  is  Gal- 
gar — ry,  is  it  not?" 

"It's  Calgary  all  right,"  cried  the  doctor,  glad  to 
find  in  this  fact  a  solid  resting  place  for  his  mind. 

' '  And  my  brother  ?  There  is  nothing  wrong  ? ' '  The 
alarm  in  her  voice  brought  him  to  himself. 

"Wrong?    Not  a  bit.    At  least,  not  much." 

"Not  much?  Tell  me  at  once,  please."  With  an 
imperious  air  the  young  lady  lifted  her  head  and  im- 
paled the  doctor  with  her  flashing  brown  eyes. 

"Well,"  said  the  doctor  in  halting  confusion,  "you 
see,  he  met  with  an  accident." 

"An  accident?"  she  cried.  "You  are  hiding  some- 
thing from  me,  Mr.  Martin.  My  brother  is  ill,  or— 

"No,  no,  not  he.  An  Indian  hit  him  on  the  head," 
said  the  doctor,  rendered  desperate  by  her  face. 


THE    GIRL   ON   NO.    1  117 

"An  Indian?"  Her  cry,  her  white  face,  the  quick 
clutch  of  her  hands  at  her  heart,  roused  the  doctor's 
professional  instincts  and  banished  his  confusion. 

"He  is  perfectly  all  right,  I  assure  you,  Miss  Cam- 
eron. Only  it  was  better  that  he  should  have  his  sleep 
out.  He  was  most  anxious  to  meet  you,  but  as  his 
medical  adviser  I  urged  him  to  remain  quiet  and  of- 
fered to  come  in  his  place.  His  wife  is  with  him. 
A  day's  rest,  believe  me,  will  make  him  quite  fit."  The 
doctor's  manner  was  briskly  professional  and  helped 
to  quiet  the  girl's  alarm. 

"Can  I  see  him?"  she  asked. 

"Most  certainly,  in  a  few  hours  when  he  wakes  and 
when  you  are  rested.  Here,  Billy,  take  Miss  Camer- 
on's checks.  Look  sharp." 

"Say,  Doc,"  said  Billy  in  an  undertone,  "about  that 
tea  and  toast " 

"What  the  deuce ?"  said  the  doctor  impatiently. 

"Oh,  yes — all  right!  Only  look  lively." 

"Keep  her  a-viewin'  the  scenery,  Doc,  a  bit,"  con- 
tinued Billy  under  his  breath. 

1  *  Oh,  get  a  move  on,  Billy !  What  are  you  monkey- 
ing about?"  said  the  doctor  quite  crossly.  He  was 
anxious  to  escape  from  a  position  that  had  become 
intolerable  to  him.  For  months  he  had  been  looking 
forward  to  this  meeting  and  now  he  had  bungled  it. 
In  the  first  place  he  had  begun  by  not  knowing  the 
girl  who  for  three  years  and  more  had  been  in  his 
dreams  day  and  night,  then  he  had  carried  himself 
like  a  schoolboy  in  her  presence,  and  lastly  had  fright- 
ened her  almost  to  death  by  his  clumsy  announcement 
of  her  brother's  accident.  The  young  lady  at  his  side, 
with  the  quick  intuition  of  her  Celtic  nature,  felt  his 


118          THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

mood,  and,  not  knowing  the  cause,  became  politely  dis- 
tant. 

On  their  walk  to  the  hotel  Dr.  Martin  pointed  out 
the  wonderful  pearly  gray  light  stealing  across  the 
plain  and  beginning  to  brighten  on  the  tops  of  the  ram- 
part hills  that  surrounded  the  town. 

"You  will  see  the  Eockies  in  an  hour,  Miss  Cameron, 
in  the  far  west  there,"  he  said.  But  there  was  no 
enthusiasm  in  his  voice. 

"Ah,  yes,  how  beautiful ! ' '  said  the  young  lady.  But 
her  tone,  too,  was  lifeless. 

Desperately  the  doctor  strove  to  make  conversa- 
tion during  their  short  walk  and  with  infinite  relief 
did  he  welcome  the  appearance  of  Mandy  at  her  bed- 
room door  waiting  their  approach. 

"Your  brother's  wife,  Miss  Cameron,"  said  he. 

For  a  single  moment  they  stood  searching  each 
other's  souls.  Then  by  some  secret  intuition  known 
only  to  the  female  mind  they  reached  a  conclusion, 
an  entirely  satisfactory  conclusion,  too,  for  at  once 
they  were  in  each  other's  arms. 

"You  are  Moira?"  cried  Mandy. 

"Yes,"  said  the  girl  in  an  eager,  tremulous  voice. 
1 '  And  my  brother  I  Is  he  well  I ' ' 

"Well?  Of  course  he  is — perfectly  fine.  He  is 
sleeping  now.  We  will  not  wake  him.  He  has  had 
none  too  good  a  night." 

"No,  no,"  cried  Moira,  "don't  wake  him.  Oh,  I 
am  so  glad.  You  see,  I  was  afraid." 

' '  Afraid  ?  Why  were  you  afraid ! ' '  inquired  Mandy, 
looking  indignantly  at  the  doctor,  who  stood  back,  a 
picture  of  self  condemnation. 

"Yes,  yes,  Mrs.  Cameron,  blame  me.    I  deserve  it 


THEGIELONNO.l  119 

all.  I  bungled  the  whole  thing  this  morning  and  fright- 
ened Miss  Cameron  nearly  into  a  fit,  for  no  other 
reason  than  that  I  am  an  ass.  Now  I  shall  retire. 
Pray  deal  gently  with  me.  Good-by!"  he  added 
abruptly,  lifted  his  hat  and  was  gone. 

"What's  the  matter  with  him?"  said  Mandy,  look- 
ing at  her  sister-in-law. 

"I  do  not  know,  I  am  sure,"  replied  Moira  indif- 
ferently. "Is  there  anything  the  matter?" 

"He  is  not  like  himself  a  bit.  But  come,  my  dear, 
take  off  your  things.  As  the  doctor  says,  a  sleep 
for  a  couple  of  hours  will  do  you  good.  After  that 
you  will  see  Allan.  You  are  looking  very  weary,  dear, 
and  no  wonder,  no  wonder,"  said  Mandy,  "with  all 
that  journey  and — and  all  you  have  gone  through." 
She  gathered  the  girl  into  her  strong  arms.  "My, 
I  could  just  pick  you  up  like  a  babe ! ' '  She  held  her 
close  and  kissed  her. 

The  caressing  touch  was  too  much  for  the  girl. 
"With  a  rush  the  tears  came. 

"Och,  oh,"  she  cried,  lapsing  into  her  Highland 
speech,  "it  iss  ashamed  of  myself  I  am,  but  no  one 
has  done  that  to  me  for  many  a  day  since — since — my 
father " 

"There,  there,  you  poor  darling,"  said  Mandy,  com- 
forting her  as  if  she  were  a  child,  "you  will  not 
want  for  love  here  in  this  country.  Cry  away,  it  will 
do  you  good."  There  was  a  sound  of  feet  on  the 
stairs.  "Hush,  hush,  Billy  is  coming."  She  swept 
the  girl  into  her  bedroom  as  Billy  appeared. 

"Oh,  I  am  just  silly,"  said  Moira  impatiently,  as 
she  wiped  her  eyes.  "But  you  are  so  good,  and  I 
will  never  be  forgetting  your  kindness  to  me  this 
day." 


120         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

"Hot  water/'  said  Billy,  tapping  at  the  door. 

"Hot  water!    What  for?"  cried  Mandy. 

' '  For  the  young  lady.  The  doctor  said  she  was  used 
to  it." 

"The  doctor?  Well,  that  is  very  thoughtful.  Do 
you  want  hot  water,  Moira?" 

"Yes,  the  very  thing  I  do  want  to  get  the  dust  out 
of  my  eyes  and  the  grime  off  my  face. ' ' 

"And  the  tea  is  in  the  ladies'  parlor,"  added  Billy. 

"Tea!"  cried  Mandy,  "the  very  thing!" 

"The  doctor  said  tea  and  toast." 

"The  doctor  again!" 

"Sure  thing!  Said  they  were  all  stuck  on  tea  in 
the  Old  Country." 

"Oh,  he  did,  eh?    Will  you  have  tea,  Moira?" 

"No  tea,  thank  you.  I  shall  lie  down,  I  think,  for  a 
little." 

"All  right,  dear,  we  will  see  you  at  breakfast.  Don 't 
worry.  I  shall  call  you." 

Again  she  kissed  the  girl  and  left  her  to  sleep.  She 
found  Billy  standing  in  the  ladies'  parlor  with  a  per- 
plexed and  disappointed  look  on  his  face. 

"The  Doc  said  she'd  sure  want  some  tea,"  he  said. 

"And  you  made  the  tea  yourself?"  inquired  Mandy, 

"Sure  thing!    The  Doc " 

"Well,  Billy,  I'd  just  love  a  cup  of  tea  if  you  don't 
mind  wasting  it  on  me." 

"Sure  thing,  ma'm!  The  Doc  won't  mind,  bein'  as 
she  turned  it  down." 

"'Where  is  Dr.  Martin  gone,  Billy?  He  needs  a 
cup  of  tea;  he's  been  up  all  night.  He  must  be  feel- 
ing tough." 

"Judgin'  by  his  langwidge  I  should  surmise  yes," 
said  Billy  judicially. 


THEGIRLONNO.l  121 

"Would  you  get  him,  Billy,  and  bring  him  here?" 

"Get  him?  S'pose  I  could.  But  as  to  bringin' 
him  here,  I  'd  prefer  wild  cats  myself.  The  last  I  seen 
of  him  he  was  hikin'  for  the  Rockies  with  a  blue  haze 
round  his  hair. ' ' 

"But  what  in  the  world  is  wrong  with  him,  Billy?" 
said  Mandy  anxiously.  "I've  never  seen  him  this 
way. ' ' 

"No,  nor  me,"  said  Billy.  "The  Doc's  a  pretty 
level  headed  cuss.  There's  somethin'  workin'  on  him, 
if  you  ask  me." 

"Billy,  you  get  him  and  tell  him  we  want  to  see 
him  at  breakfast,  will  you?" 

Billy  shook  his  head. 

"Tell  him,  Billy,  I  want  him  to  see  my  husband 
then." 

"Sure  thing!  That'll  catch  him,  I  guess.  He's 
dead  stuck  on  his  work." 

And  it  did  catch  him,  for,  after  breakfast  was  over, 
clean-shaven,  calm  and  controlled,  and  in  his  very 
best  professional  style,  Dr.  Martin  made  his  morning 
call  on  his  patient.  Rigidly  he  eliminated  from  his 
manner  anything  beyond  a  severe  professional  inter- 
est. Mandy,  who  for  two  years  had  served  with  him 
as  nurse,  and  who  thought  she  knew  his  every  mood, 
was  much  perplexed.  Do  what  she  could,  she  was  un- 
able to  break  through  the  barrier  of  his  professional 
reserve.  He  was  kindly  courteous  and  perfectly  cor- 
rect. 

"I  would  suggest  a  quiet  day  for  him,  Mrs.  Cam- 
eron," was  his  verdict  after  examining  the  patient. 
"He  will  be  quite  able  to  get  up  in  the  afternoon  and 
go  about,  but  not  to  set  off  on  a  hundred  and  fifty 


122         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

mile  drive.    A  quiet  day,  sleep,  cheerful  company,  such 
as  you  can  furnish  here,  will  fix  him  up." 

''Doctor,  we  will  secure  the  quiet  day  if  you  will 
furnish  the  cheerful  company,"  said  Mandy,  beaming 
on  him. 

"I  have  a  very  busy  day  before  me,  and  as  for 
cheerful  company,  with  you  two  ladies  he  will  have  all 
the  company  that  is  good  for  him." 

"Cheerful  company,  you  said,  Doctor.  If  you  de- 
sert us  how  can  we  be  cheerful?" 

"Exactly  for  that  reason,"  replied  the  doctor. 
'Say,  Martin,"  interposed  Cameron,  "take  them 
out  for  a  drive  this  afternoon  and  leave  me  in  peace. ' ' 

"A  drive!"  cried  Mandy,  "with  one  hundred  and 
fifty  miles  behind  me  and  another  hundred  and  fifty 
miles  before  me!" 

"A  ride  then,"  said  Cameron.  "Moira,  you  used  to 
be  fond  of  riding." 

"And  am  still,"  cried  the  girl,  with  sparkling  eyes. 

"A  ride ! ' '  cried  Mandy.  ' '  Great !  This  is  the  coun- 
try for  riding.  But  have  you  a  habit?" 

"My  habit  is  in  one  of  my  boxes,"  replied  Moira. 

"I  can  get  a  habit,"  said  the  doctor,  "and  two  of 
them." 

"That's  settled,  then,"  cried  Mandy.  "I  am  not 
very  keen.  We  shall  do  some  shopping,  Allan,  you 
and  I  this  afternoon  and  you  two  can  go  off  to  the 
hills.  The  hills!  th — ink  of  that,  Moira,  for  a  High- 
lander!" She  glanced  at  Moira's  face  and  read  re- 
fusal there.  ' '  But  I  insist  you  must  go.  A  whole  week 
in  an  awful  stuffy  train.  This  is  the  very  thing  for 
you. ' ' 

"Yes,  the  very  thing,  Moira,"  cried  her  brother. 
"We  will  have  a  long  talk  this  morning  then  in  the 


THE    GIRL    ON   NO.    1  123 

afternoon  we  will  do  some  business  here,  Mandy  and 
I,  and  you  can  go  up  the  Bow." 

"The  Bow?" 

"The  Bow  River.  A  glorious  ride.  Nothing  like 
it  even  in  Scotland,  and  that's  saying  a  good  deal," 
said  her  brother  with  emphasis. 

This  arrangement  appeared  to  give  complete  satis- 
faction to  all  parties  except  those  most  immediately 
interested,  but  there  seemed  to  be  no  very  sufficient 
reason  with  either  to  decline,  hence  they  agreed. 


124 


CHAPTEE   IX 

THE   EIDE   UP   THE   BOW 

HAVING  once  agreed  to  the  proposal  of  a  ride 
up  the  Bow,  the  doctor  lost  no  time  in  making 
the  necessary  preparations.  Half  an  hour 
later  he  found  himself  in  the  stable  consulting  with 
Billy.  His  mood  was  gloomy  and  his  language  re- 
flected his  mood.  Gladly  would  he  have  escaped  what 
to  him,  he  felt,  would  be  a  trying  and  prolonged  or- 
deal. But  he  could  not  do  this  without  exciting  the 
surprise  of  his  friends  and  possibly  wounding  the  sen- 
sitive girl  whom  he  would  gladly  give  his  life  to  serve. 
He  resolved  that  at  all  costs  he  would  go  through  with 
the  thing. 

"I'll  give  her  a  good  time,  by  Jingo !  if  I  bust  some- 
thing," he  muttered  as  he  walked  up  and  down  the 
stable  picking  out  his  mounts.  '  *  But  for  a  compound, 
double-opposed,  self-adjusting  jackass,  I'm  your 
choice.  Lost  my  first  chance.  Threw  it  clean  away 
and  queered  myself  with  her  first  shot.  I  say,  Billy, ' ' 
he  called,  "come  here." 

"What's  up,  Doc?"  said  Billy. 

"Kick  me,  Billy,"  said  the  doctor  solemnly. 

"Well  now,  Doc,  I " 

'  *  Kick  me,  Billy,  good  and  swift. ' ' 

"Don't  believe  I  could  give  no  satisfaction,  Doc. 
But  there's  that  Hiram  mule,  he's  a  high  class  artist. 
You  might  back  up  to  him. ' ' 

"No  use  being  kicked,  Billy,  by  something  that 
wouldn't  appreciate  it,"  said  Martin. 

"Don't  guess  that  way,  Doc.    He's  an  ornery  cuss, 


THE    BIDE   UP   THE   BOW          125 

he'd  appreciate  it  all  right,  that  old  mule.  But  Doc, 
what's  eatin'  you?" 

"Oh,  nothing,  Billy,  except  that  I'm  an  ass,  an  in- 
fernal ass." 

"An  ass,  eh?  Then  I  guess  I  couldn't  give  you  no 
satisfaction.  You  better  try  that  mule." 

"Well,  Billy,  the  horses  at  two,"  said  the  doctor 
briskly,  "the  broncho  and  that  dandy  little  pinto." 

"All  serene,  Doc.  Hope  you'll  have  a  good  time. 
Brace  up,  Doc,  it's  comin'  to  you."  Billy's  wink  con- 
veyed infinitely  more  than  his  words. 

"Look  here,  Billy,  you  cut  that  all  out,"  said  the 
doctor. 

"All  right,  Doc,  if  that's  the  way  you  feel.  You'll 
see  no  monkey- work  on  me.  I'll  make  a  preacher  look 
like  a  sideshow." 

And  truly  Billy's  manner  was  irreproachable  as  he 
stood  with  the  ponies  at  the  hotel  door  and  helped 
their  riders  to  mount.  There  was  an  almost  sad  grav- 
ity in  his  demeanor  that  suggested  a  mind  preoccupied 
with  solemn  and  unworldly  thoughts  with  which  the 
doctor  and  his  affairs  had  not  even  the  remotest  asso- 
ciation. 

As  Cameron  who,  with  his  wife,  watched  their  de- 
parture from  the  balcony  above,  waved  them  farewell, 
he  cried,  "Keep  your  eyes  skinned  for  an  Indian, 
Martin.  Bring  him  in  if  you  find  him." 

"I've  got  no  gun  on  me,"  replied  the  doctor,  "and 
if  I  get  sight  of  him,  you  hear  me,  I'll  make  for  the 
timber  quick.  No  heroic  captures  for  me  this  trip." 

"What  is  all  this  about  the  Indian,  Dr.  Martin?" 
inquired  the  girl  at  his  side  as  they  cantered  down  the 
street. 

"Didn't  your  brother  tell  you?" 


126         THE    SUN   DANCE    TEAIL 

"No." 

"Well,  I've  done  enough  to  you  with  that  Indian 
already  to-day." 

"Tome?" 

"Didn't  I  like  a  fool  frighten  yon  nearly  to  death 
with  him?" 

"Well,  I  was  startled.  I  was  silly  to  show  it.  But 
an  Indian  to  an  Old  Country  person  familiar  with 
Fenimore  Cooper,  well " 

"Oh,  I  was  a  proper  idiot  all  round  this  morn- 
ing," grumbled  the  doctor.  "I  didn't  know  what  I 
was  doing." 

The  brown  eyes  were  open  wide  upon  him. 

"You  see,"  continued  the  doctor  desperately,  "I'd 
looked  forward  to  meeting  you  for  so  long."  The 
brown  eyes  grew  wider.  "And  then  to  think  that  I 
actually  didn't  know  you." 

"You  didn't  look  at  me,"  cried  Moira. 

"No,  I  was  looking  for  the  girl  I  saw  that  day,  al- 
most three  years  ago,  in  the  Glen.  I  have  never  for- 
gotten that  day." 

1  i  No,  nor  I, ' '  replied  the  girl  softly.  * '  That  is  how 
I  knew  you.  It  was  a  terrible  day  to  us  all  in  the 
Glen,  my  brother  going  to  leave  us  and  under  that 
dreadful  cloud,  and  you  came  with  the  letter  that 
cleared  it  all  away.  Oh,  it  was  like  the  coming  of  an 
angel  from  heaven,  and  I  have  often  thought,  Mr. 
Martin — Dr.  Martin  you  are  now,  of  course — that  I 
never  thanked  you  as  I  ought  that  day.  I  was  think- 
ing of  Allan.  I  have  often  wished  to  do  it.  I  should 
like  to  do  it  now." 

"Get  at  it,"  cried  the  doctor  with  great  emphasis, 
"I  need  it.  It  might  help  me  a  bit.  I  behaved  so 


THE    BIDE   UP   THE   BOW         127 

stupidly  this  morning.  The  truth  is,  I  was  completely 
knocked  out,  flabbergasted." 

"Was  that  it?"  cried  Moira  with  a  bright  smile. 

"I  thought '     A  faint  color  tinged  her  pale  cheek 

and  she  paused  a  moment.  "But  tell  me  about  the 
Indian.  My  brother  just  made  little  of  it.  It  is  his 
way  with  me.  He  thinks  me  just  a  little  girl  not  to 
be  trusted  with  things." 

"He  doesn't  know  you,  then,"  said  the  doctor. 

She  laughed  gayly.    "And  do  you?" 

'  *  I  know  you  better  than  that,  at  least. ' ' 

"What  can  you  know  about  me?" 

1 '  I  know  you  are  to  be  trusted  with  that  or  with  any- 
thing else  that  calls  for  nerve.  Besides,  sooner  or 
later  you  must  know  about  this  Indian.  Wait  till  we 
cross  the  bridge  and  reach  the  top  of  the  hill  yonder, 
it  will  be  better  going." 

The  hillside  gave  them  a  stiff  scramble,  for  the  trail 
went  straight  up.  But  the  sure-footed  ponies,  scram- 
bling over  stones  and  gravel,  reached  the  top  safely, 
with  no  worse  result  than  an  obvious  disarrangement 
of  the  girl's  hair,  so  that  around  the  Scotch  bonnet 
which  she  had  pinned  on  her  head  the  little  brown 
curls  were  peeping  in  a  way  that  quite  shook  the 
heart  of  Dr.  Martin. 

'  *  Now  you  look  a  little  more  like  yourself, ' '  he  cried, 
his  eyes  fastened  upon  the  curls  with  unmistakable 
admiration,  "more  like  the  girl  I  remember." 

' '  Oh, ' '  she  said,  "  it  is  my  bonnet.  I  put  on  this  old 
thing  for  the  ride." 

"No,"  said  the  doctor,  "you  wore  no  bonnet  that 
day.  It  is  your  face,  your  hair,  you  are  not  quite 
— so — so  proper." 


128         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

' '  My  hair ! ' '  Her  hands  went  up  to  her  head.  * '  Oh, 
my  silly  curls,  I  suppose.  They  are  my  bane."  ("My 
joy,"  the  doctor  nearly  had  said.)  "But' now  for  the 
Indian  story." 

Then  the  doctor  grew  grave. 

"It  is  not  a  pleasant  thing  to  greet  a  guest  with," 
he  said,  "but  you  must  know  it  and  I  may  as  well 
give  it  to  you.  And,  mind  you,  this  is  altogether  a 
new  thing  with  us." 

For  the  next  half  hour  as  they  rode  westward  to- 
ward the  big  hills,  steadily  climbing  as  they  went, 
the  story  of  the  disturbance  in  the  north  country,  of 
the  unrest  among  the  Indians,  of  the  part  played  in 
it  by  the  Indian  Copperhead,  and  of  the  appeal  by 
the  Superintendent  to  Cameron  for  assistance,  fur- 
nished the  topic  for  conversation.  The  girl  listened 
with  serious  face,  but  there  was  no  fear  in  the  brown 
eyes,  nor  tremor  in  the  quiet  voice,  as  they  talked  it 
over. 

"Now  let  us  forget  it  for  a  while,"  cried  the  doctor. 
"The  Police  have  rarely,  if  ever,  failed  to  get  their 
man.  That  is  their  boast.  And  they  will  get  this  chap, 
too.  And  as  for  the  row  on  the  Saskatchewan,  I  don't 
take  much  stock  in  that.  Now  we  're  coming  to  a  view 
in  a  few  minutes,  one  of  the  finest  I  have  seen  any- 
where. ' ' 

For  half  a  mile  farther  they  loped  along  the  trail 
that  led  them  to  the  top  of  a  hill  that  stood  a  little 
higher  than  the  others  round  about.  Upon  the  hilltop 
they  drew  rein. 

"What  do  you  think  of  that  for  a  view?"  said  the 
doctor. 

Before  them  stretched  the  wide  valley  of  the  Bow 


THE    RIDE   UP   THE   BOW         129 

for  many  miles,  sweeping  up  toward  the  mountains, 
with  rounded  hills  on  either  side,  and  far  beyond  the 
hills  the  majestic  masses  of  the  Rockies  some  fifty 
miles  away,  snow-capped,  some  of  them,  and  here  and 
there  upon  their  faces  the  great  glaciers  that  looked 
like  patches  of  snow.  Through  this  wide  valley  wound 
the  swift  flowing  Bow,  and  up  from  it  on  either  side 
the  hills,  rough  with  rocks  and  ragged  masses  of 
pine,  climbed  till  they  seemed  to  reach  the,  very  bases 
of  the  mountains  beyond.  Over  all  the  blue  arch  of 
sky  spanned  the  wide  valley  and  seemed  to  rest  upon 
the  great  ranges  on  either  side,  like  the  dome  of  a  vast 
cathedral. 

Silent,  with  lips  parted  and  eyes  alight  with  wonder, 
Moira  sat  and  gazed  upon  the  glory  of  that  splendid 
scene. 

"What  do  you  think "  began  the  doctor. 

She  put  out  her  hand  and  touched  his  arm. 

"Please  don't  speak,"  she  breathed,  "this  is  not 
for  words,  but  for  worship." 

Long  she  continued  to  gaze  in  rapt  silence  upon  the 
picture  spread  out  before  her.  It  was,  indeed,  a  place 
for  worship.  She  pointed  to  a  hill  some  distance  in 
front  of  them. 

' '  You  have  been  beyond  that  ? ' '  she  asked  in  a  hushed 
voice. 

'  *  Yes,  I  have  been  all  through  this  country.  I  know 
it  well.  From  the  top  of  that  hill  we  get  a  magnificent 
sweep  toward  the  south." 

' '  Let  us  go ! "  she  cried. 

Down  the  hillside  they  scrambled,  across  a  little  val- 
ley and  up  the  farther  side,  following  the  trail  that 
wound  along  the  hill  but  declined  to  make  the  top. 


130 


As  they  rounded  the  shoulder  of  the  little  mountain 
Moira  cried: 

' '  It  would  be  a  great  view  from  the  top  there  beyond 
the  trees.  Can  we  reach  it?" 

"Are  you  good  for  a  climb?"  replied  the  doctor. 
"We  could  tie  the  horses." 

For  answer  she  flung  herself  from  her  pinto  and, 
gathering  up  her  habit,  began  eagerly  to  climb.  By 
the  time  the  doctor  had  tethered  the  ponies  she  was 
half  way  to  the  top.  Putting  forth  all  his  energy  he 
raced  after  her,  and  together  they  parted  a  screen  of 
brushwood  and  stepped  out  on  a  clear  rock  that  over- 
hung the  deep  canyon  that  broadened  into  a  great 
valley  sweeping  toward  the  south. 

"Beats  Scotland,  eh?"  cried  the  doctor,  as  they 
stepped  out  together. 

She  laid  her  hand  upon  his  arm  and  drew  him  back 
into  the  bushes. 

"Hush,"  she  whispered.  Surprised  into  silence,  he 
stood  gazing  at  her.  Her  face  was  white  and  her 
eyes  gleaming.  "An  Indian  down  there,"  she  whis- 
pered. 

"An  Indian?    Where?    Show  me." 

1 '  He  was  looking  up  at  us.  Come  this  way.  I  think 
he  heard  us." 

She  led  him  by  a  little  detour  and  on  their  hands  and 
knees  they  crept  through  the  brushwood.  They 
reached  the  open  rock  and  peered  down  through  a 
screen  of  bushes  into  the  canyon  below. 

"There  he  is,"  cried  Moira. 

Across  the  little  stream  that  flowed  at  the  bottom 
of  the  canyon,  and  not  more  than  a  hundred  yards 
away,  stood  an  Indian,  tall,  straight  and  rigidly  at- 
tent,  obviously  listening  and  gazing  steadily  at  the 


THE    BIDE   UP    THE   BOW         131 

point  where  they  had  first  stood.  For  many  minutes 
he  stood  thus  rigid  while  they  watched  him.  Then  his 
attitude  relaxed.  He  sat  down  upon  the  rocky  ledge 
that  sloped  up  from  the  stream  toward  a  great  over- 
hanging crag  behind  him,  laid  his  rifle  beside  him  and, 
calmly  filling  his  pipe,  began  to  smoke.  Intently  they 
followed  his  every  movement. 

"I  do  believe  it  is  our  Indian,"  whispered  the  doc- 
tor. 

' '  Oh,  if  we  could  only  get  him ! ' '  replied  the  girl. 

The  doctor  glanced  swiftly  at  her.  Her  face  was 
pale  but  firm  set  with  resolve.  Quickly  he  revolved 
in  his  mind  the  possibilities. 

"If  I  only  had  a  gun,"  he  said  to  himself,  "I'd  risk 
it." 

"What  is  he  going  to  do?" 

The  Indian  was  breaking  off  some  dead  twigs  from 
the  standing  pines  about  him. 

"He's  going  to  light  a  fire,"  replied  the  doctor, 
"perhaps  camp  for  the  night." 

"Then,"  cried  the  girl  in  an  excited  whisper,  "we 
could  get  him." 

The  doctor  smiled  at  her.  The  Indian  soon  had  his 
fire  going  and,  unrolling  his  blanket  pack,  he  took 
thence  what  looked  like  a  lump  of  meat,  cut  some  strips 
from  it  and  hung  them  from  pointed  sticks  over  the 
fire.  He  proceeded  to  gather  some  poles  from  the 
dead  wood  lying  about. 

"What  now  is  he  going  to  do?"  inquired  Moira. 

"Wait,"  replied  the  doctor. 

The  Indian  proceeded  to  place  the  poles  in  order 
against  the  rock,  keeping  his  eye  on  the  toasting  meat 
the  while  and  now  and  again  turning  it  before  the 


132         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

fire.     Then  he  began  to  cut  branches  of  spruce  and 
balsam. 

t     ' '  By  the  living  Jingo ! ' '  cried  the  doctor,  greatly  ex- 
cited, "I  declare  he's  going  to  camp." 

"To  sleep?"  said  Moira. 

"Yes,"  replied  the  doctor.  "He  had  no  sleep  last 
night." 

"Then,"  cried  the  girl,  "we  can  get  him." 

The  doctor  gazed  at  her  in  admiration. 

"You  are  a  brick,'"  he  said.  "How  can  we  get 
him?  He'd  double  me  up  like  a  jack-knife.  Remember 
I  only  played  quarter,"  he  added. 

"No,  no,"  she  cried  quickly,  "you  stay  here  to 
watch  him.  Let  me  go  back  for  the  Police." 

"I  say,"  cried  the  doctor,  "you  are  a  wonder. 
There's  something  in  that."  He  thought  rapidly,  then 
said,  "No,  it  won't  do.  I  can't  allow  you  to  risk  it." 

"Risk?    Risk  what?" 

A  year  ago  the  doctor  would  not  have  hesitated  a 
moment  to  allow  her  to  go,  but  now  he  thought  of 
the  roving  bands  of  Indians  and  the  possibility  of 
the  girl  falling  into  their  hands. 

"No,  Miss  Cameron,  it  will  not  do." 

"But  think,"  she  cried,  "we  might  get  him  and 
save  Allan  all  the  trouble  and  perhaps  his  life.  You 
must  not  stop  me.  You  cannot  stop  me.  I  am  go- 
ing. You  wait  and  watch.  Don't  move.  I  can  find 
my  way." 

He  seized  her  by  the  arm. 

"Wait,"  he  said,  "let  me  think." 

"What  danger  can  there  be?"  she  pleaded.  "It  is 
broad  daylight.  The  road  is  good.  I  cannot  possibly 
lose  my  way.  I  am  used  to  riding  alone  among  the 
hills  at  home." 


THE    RIDE   UP    THE   BOW         133 

"Ah,  yes,  at  home,''  said  the  doctor  gloomily. 

"But  there  is  no  danger,"  she  persisted.  "I  am  not 
afraid.  Besides,  you  cannot  keep  me."  She  stood  up 
among  the  bushes  looking  down  at  him  with  a  face 
so  fiercely  resolved  that  he  was  constrained  to  say, 
"By  Jove!  I  don't  believe  I  could.  But  I  can  go 
with  you." 

"You  would  not  do  that,"  she  cried,  stamping  her 
foot,  "if  I  forbade  you.  It  is  your  duty  to  stay  here 
and  watch  that  Indian.  It  is  mine  to  go  and  get  the 
Police.  Good-by." 

He  rose  to  follow  her. 

"No,"  she  said,  "I  forbid  you  to  come.  You  are 
not  doing  right.  You  are  to  stay.  We  will  save  my 
brother. ' ' 

She  glided  through  the  bushes  from  his  sight  and 
was  gone. 

"Am  I  a  fool  or  what?"  said  the  doctor  to  himself. 
"She  is  taking  a  chance,  but  after  all  it  is  worth 
while." 

It  was  now  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  and  it  would 
take  Moira  an  hour  and  a  half  over  that  rocky  wind- 
ing trail  to  make  the  ten  miles  that  lay  before  her. 
Ten  minutes  more  would  see  the  Police  started  on 
their  return.  The  doctor  settled  himself  down  to  his 
three  hours'  wait,  keeping  his  eye  fixed  upon  the  In- 
dian. The  latter  was  now  busy  with  his  meal,  which 
he  ate  ravenously. 

"The  beggar  has  me  tied  up  tight,"  muttered  the 
doctor  ruefully.  "My  grub  is  on  my  saddle,  and  I 
guess  I  dare  not  smoke  till  he  lights  up  himself." 

A  hand  touched  his  arm.  Instantly  he  was  on  his 
feet.  It  was  Moira. 


134         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

"Great  Caesar,  you  scared  me!  Thought  it  was  the 
whole  Blackfoot  tribe." 

"You  will  be  the  better  for  something  to  eat,"  she 
said  simply,  handing  him  the  lunch  basket.  "Good- 
by." 

"Hold  up!"  he  cried.    But  she  was  gone. 

1 '  Say,  she 's  a  regular ' '    He  paused  and  thought 

for  a  moment.    "She's  an  angel,  that's  what — and  a 
mighty  sight  better  than  most  of  them.    She 's  a— 
He  turned  back  to  his  watch,  leaving  his  thought  un- 
spoken.   In  the  presence  of  the  greater  passions  words 
are  woefully  inadequate. 

The  Indian  was  still  eating  as  ravenously  as  ever. 

"He's  filling  up,  I  guess.  He  ought  to  be  full  soon 
at  that  rate.  Wish  he  'd  get  his  pipe  agoing. ' ' 

In  due  time  the  Indian  finished  eating,  rolled  up 
the  fragments  carefully  in  a  rag,  and  then  proceeded 
to  construct  with  the  poles  and  brush  which  he  had 
cut  a  penthouse  against  the  rock.  At  one  end  his 
little  shelter  thus  constructed  ran  into  a  spruce  tree 
whose  thick  branches  reached  right  to  the  ground. 
When  he  had  completed  this  shelter  to  his  satisfaction 
he  sat  down  again  on  the  rock  beside  his  smoldering 
fire  and  pulled  out  his  pipe. 

"Thanks  be!"  said  the  doctor  to  himself  fervently. 
"Go  on,  old  boy,  hit  her  up." 

A  pipe  and  then  another  the  Indian  smoked,  then, 
taking  his  gun,  blanket  and  pack,  he  crawled  into  his 
brush  wigwam  out  of  sight. 

"There,  you  old  beggar!"  said  the  doctor  with  a 
sigh  of  relief.  "You  are  safe  for  an  hour  or  two,  thank 
goodness.  You  had  no  sleep  last  night  and  you've 
got  to  make  up  for  it  now.  Sleep  tight,  old  boy.  We'll 
give  you  a  call."  The  doctor  hugged  himself  with 


THE   RIDE   UP   THE   BOW         135 

supreme  satisfaction  and  continued  to  smoke  with  his 
eye  fixed  upon  the  hole  into  which  the  Indian  had  dis- 
appeared. 

Through  the  long  hours  he  sat  and  smoked  while  he 
formulated  the  plan  of  attack  which  he  proposed  to 
develop  when  his  reinforcements  should  arrive. 

"We  will  work  up  behind  him  from  away  down  the 
valley,  a  couple  of  us  will  cover  him  from  the  front 
and  the  others  go  right  in." 

He  continued  with  great  care  to  make  and  revise 
his  plans,  and  while  in  the  midst  of  his  final  revision  a 
movement  in  the  bushes  behind  him  startled  him  to  his 
feet.  The  bushes  parted  and  the  face  of  Moira  ap- 
peared with  that  of  her  brother  over  her  shoulder. 

"Is  he  still  there?"  she  whispered  eagerly. 

"Asleep,  snug  as  a  bug.  Never  moved,"  said  the 
doctor  exultantly,  and  proceeded  to  explain  his  plan  of 
attack.  "How  many  have  you?"  he  asked  Cameron. 

"Crisp  and  a  constable." 

"Just  two?"  said  the  doctor. 

"Two,"  replied  Cameron  briefly.  "That's  plenty. 
Here  they  are. ' '  He  stepped  back  through  the  bushes 
and  brought  forward  Crisp  and  the  constable.  "Now, 
then,  here's  our  plan,"  he  said.  "You,  Crisp,  will  go 
down  the  canyon,  cross  the  stream  and  work  up  on 
the  other  side  right  to  that  rock.  When  you  arrive 
at  the  rock  the  constable  and  I  will  go  in.  The  doctor 
will  cover  him  from  this  side." 

"Fine!"  said  the  doctor.  "Fine,  except  that  I  pro- 
pose to  go  in  myself  with  you.  He's  a  devil  to  fight. 
I  could  see  that  last  night." 

Cameron  hesitated. 

"There's  really  no  use,  you  know,  Doctor.  The  con- 
stable and  I  can  handle  him." 


136         THE   SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 

Moira  stood  looking  eagerly  from  one  to  the  other. 

"All  right,"  said  the  doctor,  "  'miff  said.  Only 
Pm  going  in.  If  you  want  to  come  along,  suit  your- 
self." 

"Oh,  do  be  careful,"  said  Moira,  clasping  her  hands. 
"Oh,  I'm  afraid." 

"Afraid?"  said  the  doctor,  looking  at  her  quickly. 
* '  You  f  Not  much  fear  in  you,  I  guess. ' ' 

"Come  on,  then,"  said  Cameron.  "Moira,  you  stay 
here  and  keep  your  eye  on  him.  You  are  safe  enough 
here. ' ' 

She  pressed  her  lips  tight  together  till  they  made  a 
thin  red  line  in  her  white  face. 

"Can  you  let  me  have  a  gun?"  she  asked. 

"A  gun?"  exclaimed  the  doctor. 

"Oh,  she  can  shoot — rabbits,  at  least,"  said  her 
brother  with  a  smile.  "I  shall  bring  you  one,  Moira, 
but  remember,  handle  it  carefully. ' ' 

With  a  gun  across  her  knees  Moira  sat  and  watched 
the  development1  of  the  attack.  For  many  minutes 
there  was  no  sign  or  sound,  till  she  began  to  wonder 
if  a  change  had  been  made  in  the  plan.  At  length 
some  distance  down  the  canyon  and  on  the  other  side 
Sergeant  Crisp  was  seen  working  his  way  with  pain- 
ful care  step  by  step  toward  the  rock  of  rendezvous. 
There  was  no  sign  of  her  brother  or  Dr.  Martin.  It 
was  for  them  she  watched  with  an  intensity  of  anxiety 
which  she  could  not  explain  to  herself.  At  length 
Sergeant  Crisp  reached  the  crag  against  whose  base 
the  penthouse  leaned  in  which  the  sleeping  Indian  lay. 
Immediately  she  saw  her  brother,  quickly  followed  by 
Dr.  Martin,  leap  the  little  stream,  run  lightly  up  the 
sloping  rock  and  join  Crisp  at  the  crag.  Still  there 
was  no  sign  from  the  Indian.  She  saw  her  brother 


THE   BIDE   UP   THE   BOW         137 

motion  the  Sergeant  round  to  the  farther  corner  of 
the  penthouse  where  it  ran  into  the  spruce  tree,  while 
he  himself,  with  a  revolver  in  each  hand,  dropped  on 
one  knee  and  peered  under  the  leaning  poles.  With  a 
loud  exclamation  he  sprang  to  his  feet. 

' '  He 's  gone ! "  he  shouted.  ' '  Stand  where  you  are ! ' ' 
Like  a  hound  on  a  scent  he  ran  to  the  back  of  the 
spruce  tree  and  on  his  knees  examined  the  earth  there. 
In  a  few  moments  his  search  was  rewarded.  He  struck 
the  trail  and  followed  it  round  the  rock  and  through 
the  woods  till  he  came  to  the  hard  beaten  track.  Then 
he  came  back,  pale  with  rage  and  disappointment. 
"He's  gone!"  he  said. 

"I  swear  he  never  came  out  of  that  hole!"  said  Dr. 
Martin.  "I  kept  my  eye  on  it  every  minute  of  the 
last  three  hours." 

"There's  another  hole,"  said  Crisp,  "under  the 
tree  here." 

Cameron  said  not  a  word.  His  disappointment  was 
too  keen.  Together  they  retraced  their  steps  across 
the  little  stream.  On  the  farther  bank  they  found 
Moira,  who  had  raced  down  to  meet  them. 

"He's  gone?"  she  cried. 

*  *  Gone ! ' '  echoed  her  brother.  *  *  Gone  for  this  time 
— but — some  day — some  day,"  he  added  below  his 
breath. 

But  many  things  were  to  happen  before  that  day 
came. 


138         THE   SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 
CHAPTER   X 

RAVEN    TO   THE   RESCUE 

OVERHEAD  the  stars  were  still  twinkling  far 
in  the  western  sky.  The  crescent  moon  still 
shone  serene,  marshaling  her  attendant  con- 
stellations. Eastward  the  prairie  still  lay  in  deep 
shadow,  its  long  rolls  outlined  by  the  deeper  shadows 
lying  in  the  hollows  between.  Over  the  Bow  and  the 
Elbow  mists  hung  like  white  veils  swathing  the  faces 
of  the  rampart  hills  north  and  south.  In  the  little 
town  a  stillness  reigned  as  of  death,  for  at  length  Cal- 
gary was  asleep,  and  sound  asleep  would  remain  for 
hours  to  come. 

Not  so  the  world  about.  Through  the  dead  stillness 
of  the  waning  night  the  liquid  note  of  the  adventurous 
meadow  lark  fell  like  the  dropping  of  a  silver  stream 
into  the  pool  below.  Brave  little  heart,  roused  from 
slumber  perchance  by  domestic  care,  perchance  by  the 
first  burdening  presage  of  the  long  fall  flight  wait- 
ing her  sturdy  careless  brood,  perchance  stirred  by 
the  first  thrill  of  the  Event  approaching  from  the 
east.  iTor  already  in  the  east  the  long  round  tops  of 
the  prairie  undulations  are  shining  gray  above  the 
dark  hollows  and  faint  bars  of  light  are  shooting  to 
the  zenith,  fearless  forerunners  of  the  dawn,  menacing 
the  retreating  stars  still  bravely  shining  their  pale 
defiance  to  the  oncoming  of  their  ancient  foe.  Far 
toward  the  west  dark  masses  still  lie  invincible  upon 
the  horizon,  but  high  above  in  the  clear  heavens  white 
shapes,  indefinite  and  unattached,  show  where  stand 
the  snow-capped  mountain  peaks.  Thus  the  swift  and 
silent  moments  mark  the  fortunes  of  this  age-long  con- 


RAVEN   TO    THE    RESCUE         139 

flict.  But  sudden  all  heaven  and  all  earth  thrill  trem- 
ulous in  eager  expectancy  of  the  daily  miracle  when, 
all  unaware,  the  gray  light  in  the  eastern  horizon 
over  the  roll  of  the  prairie  has  grown  to  silver,  and 
through  the  silver  a  streamer  of  palest  rose  has  flashed 
up  into  the  sky,  the  gay  and  gallant  avant  courier  of 
an  advancing  host,  then  another  and  another,  then 
by  tens  and  hundreds,  till,  radiating  from  a  center  yet 
unseen,  ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand  flaming  flaunt- 
ing banners  flash  into  orderly  array  and  possess  the 
utmost  limits  of  the  heavens,  sweeping  before  them 
the  ever  paling  stars,  that  indomitable  rearguard  of 
the  flying  night,  proclaiming  to  all  heaven  and  all  earth 
the  King  is  come,  the  Monarch  of  the  Day.  Flushed 
in  the  new  radiance  of  the  morning,  the  long  flowing 
waves  of  the  prairie,  the  tumbling  hills,  the  mighty 
rocky  peaks  stand  surprised,  as  if  caught  all  unpre- 
pared by  the  swift  advance,  trembling  and  blushing  in 
the  presence  of  the  triumphant  King,  waiting  the  royal 
proclamation  that  it  is  time  to  wake  and  work,  for  the 
day  is  come. 

All  oblivious  of  this  wondrous  miracle  stands  Billy, 
his  powers  of  mind  and  body  concentrated  upon  a 
single  task,  that  namely  of  holding  down  to  earth  the 
game  little  bronchos,  Mustard  and  Pepper,  till  the 
party  should  appear.  Nearby  another  broncho,  sad- 
dled and  with  the  knotted  reins  hanging  down  from 
his  bridle,  stood  viewing  with  all  too  obvious  contempt 
the  youthful  frolics  of  the  colts.  Well  he  knew  that 
life  would  cure  them  of  all  this  foolish  w^aste  of  spirit 
and  of  energy.  Meantime  on  his  part  he  was  content 
to  wait  till  his  master — Dr.  Martin,  to  wit — should 
give  the  order  to  move.  His  master  meantime  was 
busily  engaged  with  clever  sinewy  fingers  packing  in 


140         THE   SUN   DANCE    TEAIL 

the  last  parcels  that  represented  the  shopping  activi- 
ties of  Cameron  and  his  wife  during  the  past  two 
days.  There  was  a  whole  living  and  sleeping  outfit 
for  the  family  to  gather  together.  Already  a  heavily 
laden  wagon  had  gone  on  before  them.  The  building 
material  for  the  new  house  was  to  follow,  for  it  was 
near  the  end  of  September  and  a  tent  dwelling,  while 
quite  endurable,  does  not  lend  itself  to  comfort  through 
a  late  fall  in  the  foothill  country.  Besides,  there  was 
upon  Cameron,  and  still  more  upon  his  wife,  the  ever 
deepening  sense  of  a  duty  to  be  done  that  could  not 
wait,  and  for  the  doing  of  that  duty  due  preparation 
must  be  made.  Hence  the  new  house  must  be  built 
and  its  simple  appointments  and  furnishings  set  in 
order  without  delay,  and  hence  the  laden  wagon  gone 
before  and  the  numerous  packages  in  the  democrat, 
covered  with  a  new  tent  and  roped  securely  into 
place. 

This  packing  and  roping  the  doctor  made  his  pe- 
culiar care,  for  he  was  a  true  Canadian,  born  and  bred 
in  the  atmosphere  of  pioneer  days  in  old  Ontario,  and 
the  packing  and  roping  could  be  trusted  to  no  amateur 
hands,  for  there  were  hills  to  go  up  and  hills  to  go 
down,  sleughs  to  cross  and  rivers  to  ford  with  all 
their  perilous  contingencies  before  they  should  arrive 
at  the  place  where  they  would  be. 

"All  secure,  Martin?"  said  Cameron,  coming  out 
from  the  hotel  with  hand  bags  and  valises. 

11  They '11  stay,  I  think,"  replied  the  doctor,  "unless 
those  bronchos  of  yours  get  away  from  you." 

"Aren't  they  dears,  Billy?"  cried  Moira,  coming 
out  at  the  moment  and  dancing  over  to  the  bronchos' 
heads. 

"Well,  miss,"  said  Billy  with  judicial  care,  "I  don't 


RAVEN   TO    THE   EESCUE         141 

know  about  that.  They're  ornery  little  cusses  and 
mean-actin.'  They'll  go  straight  enough  if  everything 
is  all  right,  but  let  anythin'  go  wrong,  a  trace  or  a 
line,  and  they'll  put  it  to  you  good  and  hard." 

"I  do  not  think  I  would  be  afraid  of  them,"  replied 
the  girl,  reaching  out  her  hand  to  stroke  Pepper's 
nose,  a  movement  which  surprised  that  broncho  so 
completely  that  he  flew  back  violently  upon  the  whiffle- 
tree,  carrying  Billy  with  him. 

"Come  up  here,  you  beast!"  said  Billy,  giving  him 
a  fierce  yank. 

"Oh,  Billy!"  expostulated  Moira. 

"Oh,  he  ain't  no  lady's  maid,  miss.  You  would,  eh, 
you  young  devil," — this  to  Pepper,  whose  intention  to 
walk  over  Billy  was  only  too  obvious — "Get  back 
there,  will  you !  Now  then,  take  that,  and  stand  still ! ' ' 
Billy  evidently  did  not  rely  solely  upon  the  law  of  love 
in  handling  his  broncho. 

Moira  abandoned  him  and  climbed  to  her  place  in 
the  democrat  between  Cameron  and  his  wife. 

By  a  most  singular  and  fortunate  coincidence  Dr. 
Martin  had  learned  that  a  patient  of  his  at  Big  Eiver 
was  in  urgent  need  of  a  call,  so,  to  the  open  delight 
of  the  others  and  to  the  subdued  delight  of  the  doc- 
tor, he  was  to  ride  with  them  thus  far  on  their  jour- 
ney. 

"All  set,  Billy!"  cried  Cameron.    "Let  them  go." 

"Good-by,  Billy,"  cried  both  ladies,  to  which  Billy 
replied  with  a  wave  of  his  Stetson. 

Away  plunged  the  bronchos  on  a  dead  gallop,  as  if 
determined  to  end  the  journey  during  the  next  half 
hour  at  most,  and  away  with  them  went  the  doctor 
upon  his  steady  broncho,  the  latter  much  annoyed  at 
being  thus  ignominiously  outdistanced  by  these  silly 


142         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

colts  and  so  induced  to  strike  a  somewhat  more  rapid 
pace  than  he  considered  wise  at  the  beginning  of  an  all- 
day  journey.  Away  down  the  street  between  the  silent 
shacks  and  stores  and  out  among  the  straggling  resi- 
dences that  lined  the  trail.  Away  past  the  Indian  en- 
campment and  the  Police  Barracks.  Away  across  the 
echoing  bridge,  whose  planks  resounded  like  the  rattle 
of  rifles  under  the  flying  hoofs.  Away  up  the  long 
stony  hill,  scrambling  and  scrabbling,  but  never  ceas- 
ing till  they  reached  the  level  prairie  at  the  top.  Away 
upon  the  smooth  resilient  trail  winding  like  a  black 
ribbon  over  the  green  bed  of  the  prairie.  Away  down 
long,  long  slopes  to  low,  wide  valleys,  and  up  long, 
long  slopes  to  the  next  higher  prairie  level.  Away 
across  the  plain  skirting  sleughs  where  ducks  of  vari- 
ous kinds,  and  in  hundreds,  quacked  and  plunged  and 
fought  joyously  and  all  unheeding.  Away  with  the 
morning  air,  rare  and  wondrously  exhilarating,  rush- 
ing at  them  and  past  them  and  filling  their  hearts 
with  the  keen  zest  of  living.  Away  beyond  sight  and 
sound  of  the  great  world,  past  little  shacks,  the  brave 
vanguard  of  civilization,  whose  solitary  loneliness  only 
served  to  emphasize  their  remoteness  from  the  civili- 
zation which  they  heralded.  Away  from  the  haunts 
of  men  and  through  the  haunts  of  wild  things  where 
the  shy  coyote,  his  head  thrown  back  over  his  shoulder, 
loped  laughing  at  them  and  their  futile  noisy  speed. 
A\v  :>v  through  the  wide  rich  pasture  lands  where  feed- 
ing herds  of  cattle  and  bands  of  horses  made  up  the 
wealth  of  the  solitary  rancher,  whose  low-built  wander- 
ing ranch  house  proclaimed  at  once  his  faith  and  his 
courage.  Away  and  ever  away,  the  shining  morning 
hours  and  the  fleeting  miles  racing  with  them,  till  by 
noon-day,  all  wet  but  still  unweary,  the  bronchos  drew 


143 


up  at  the  Big  Eiver  Stopping  Place,  forty  miles  from 
the  point  of  their  departure. 

Close  behind  the  democrat  rode  Dr.  Martin,  the 
steady  pace  of  his  wise  old  broncho  making  up  upon 
the  dashing  but  somewhat  erratic  gait  of  the  colts. 

While  the  ladies  passed  into  the  primitive  Stopping 
Place,  the  men  unhitched  the  ponies,  stripped  off  their 
harness  and  proceeded  to  rub  them  down  from  head 
to  heel,  wash  out  their  mouths  and  remove  from  them 
as  far  as  they  could  by  these  attentions  the  travel 
marks  of  the  last  six  hours. 

Big  Eiver  could  hardly  be  called  even  by  the  gener- 
ous estimate  of  the  optimistic  westerner  a  town.  It 
consisted  of  a  blacksmith's  shop,  with  which  was  com- 
bined the  Post  Office,  a  little  school,  which  did  for 
church — the  farthest  outpost  of  civilization — and  a 
manse,  simple,  neat  and  tiny,  but  with  a  wondrous  air 
of  comfort  about  it,  and  very  like  the  little  Nova 
Scotian  woman  inside,  who  made  it  a  very  vestibule 
of  Heaven  for  many  a  cowboy  and  rancher  in  the  dis- 
trict, and  last,  the  Stopping  Place  run  by  a  man  who 
had  won  the  distinction  of  being  well  known  to  the 
Mounted  Police  and  who  bore  the  suggestive  name  of 
Hell  Gleeson,  which  appeared,  however,  in  the  old 
English  Eegistry  as  Hellmuth  Eaymond  Gleeson.  The 
Mounted  Police  thought  it  worth  while  often  to  run 
in  upon  Hell  at  unexpected  times,  and  more  than  once 
they  had  found  it  necessary  to  invite  him  to  contribute 
to  Her  Majesty's  revenue  as  compensation  for  Hell's 
objectionable  habit  of  having  in  possession  and  of  re- 
tailing to  his  friends  bad  whisky  without  attending  to 
the  little  formality  of  a  permit. 

The  Stopping  Place  was  a  rambling  shack,  or  rather 


144         THE    SUN   DANCE    TEAIL 

a  series  of  shacks,  loosely  joined  together,  whose  rami- 
fications were  found  by  Hell  and  his  friends  to  be  use- 
ful in  an  emergency.  The  largest  room  in  the  build- 
ing was  the  bar,  as  it  was  called.  Behind  the  counter, 
however,  instead  of  the  array  of  bottles  and  glasses 
usually  found  in  rooms  bearing  this  name,  the  shelf 
was  filled  with  patent  medicines,  chiefly  various  brands 
of  pain-killer.  Off  the  bar  was  the  dining-room,  and 
behind  the  dining-room  another  and  smaller  room, 
while  the  room  most  retired  in  the  collection  of  shacks 
constituting  the  Stopping  Place  was  known  in  the 
neighborhood  as  the  " snake  room,"  a  room  devoted 
to  those  unhappy  wretches  who,  under  the  influence 
of  prolonged  indulgence  in  Hell's  bad  whisky,  were 
reduced  to  such  a  mental  and  nervous  condition  that 
the  landscape  of  their  dreams  became  alive  with  snakes 
of  various  sizes,  shapes  and  hues. 

To  Mandy  familiarity  had  hardened  her  sensibil- 
ities to  endurance  of  all  the  grimy  uncleanness  of 
the  place,  but  to  Moira  the  appearance  of  the  house 
and  especially  of  the  dining-room  filled  her  with  loath- 
ing unspeakable. 

"Oh,  Mandy,"  she  groaned,  "can  we  not  eat  out- 
side somewhere?  This  is  terrible." 

Mandy  thought  for  a  moment. 

"No,"  she  cried,  "but  we  will  do  better.  I  know 
Mrs.  Macintyre  in  the  manse.  I  nursed  her  once  last 
spring.  We  will  go  and  see  her." 

"Oh,  that  would  not  do,"  said  Moira,  her  Scotch 
shy  independence  shrinking  from  such  an  intrusion. 

"And  why  not?" 

"She  doesn't  know  me — and  there  are  four  of  us." 

"Oh,  nonsense,  you  don't  know  this  country.  You 
don't  know  what  our  visit  will  mean  to  the  little 


RAVEN    TO    THE   RESCUE         145 

woman,  what  a  joy  it  will  be  to  her  to  see  a  new  face, 
and  I  declare  when  she  hears  you  are  new  out  from 
Scotland  she  will  simply  revel  in  you.  We  are  about 
to  confer  a  great  favor  upon  Mrs.  Macintyre." 

If  Moira  had  any  lingering  doubts  as  to  the  sound- 
ness of  her  sister-in-law's  opinion  they  vanished  be- 
fore the  welcome  she  had  from  the  minister's  wife. 

"Mr.  Cameron's  sister?"  she  cried,  with  both  hands 
extended,  "and  just  out  from  Scotland!  And  where 
from?  From  near  Braemar?  And  our  folk  came  from 
near  Inverness.  Mkail  Gaelic  heaibh?" 

"Go  dearth  ha." 

And  on  they  went  for  some  minutes  in  what  Mrs. 
Macintyre  called  ' '  the  dear  old  speech, ' '  till  Mrs.  Mac- 
intyre,  remembering  herself,  said  to  Mandy: 

"But  you  do  not  understand  the  Gaelic?  Well,  well, 
you  will  forgive  us.  And  to  think  that  in  this  far 
land  I  should  find  a  young  lady  like  this  to  speak  it 
to  me!  Do  you  know,  I  am  forgetting  it  out  here." 
All  the  while  she  was  speaking  she  was  laying  the 
cloth  and  setting  the  table.  "And  you  have  come 
all  the  way  from  Calgary  this  morning?  What  a 
drive  for  the  young  lady!  You  must  be  tired  out. 
Would  you  lie  down  upon  the  bed  for  an  hour?  Then 
come  away  in  to  the  bedroom  and  fresh  yourselves  up 
a  bit.  Come  away  in.  I'll  get  Mr.  Cameron  over." 

"We  are  a  big  party,"  said  Mandy,  "for  your  wee 
house.  We  have  a  friend  with  us — Dr.  Martin." 

"Dr.  Martin?  Indeed  I  know  him  well,  and  a  fine 
man  he  is  and  that  kind  and  clever.  I'll  get  him 
too." 

"Let  me  go  for  them,"  said  Mandy. 

"Very  well,  go  then.    I'll  just  hurry  the  dinner." 

"But  are  you  quite  sure,"  asked  Mandy,  "you  can 


146         THE    SUN   DANCE    TEAIL 

— you  have  everything  handy?  You  know,  Mrs.  Mac- 
intyre,  I  know  just  how  hard  it  is  to  keep  a  stock  of 
everything  on  hand." 

"Well,  we  have  bread  and  molasses — our  butter  is 
run  out,  it  is  hard  to  get — and  some  bacon  and  pota- 
toes and  tea.  Will  that  do?" 

"Oh,  that  will  do  fine.  And  we  have  some  things 
with  us,  if  you  don't  mind." 

."Mind?     Not  a  bit,  my  dear.     You  can  just  suit 
yourself. ' ' 

The  dinner  was  a  glorious  success.  The  clean  linen, 
the  shining  dishes,  the  silver — for  Mrs.  Macintyre 
brought  out  her  wedding  presents — gave  the  table  a 
brilliantly  festive  appearance  in  the  eyes  of  those  who 
had  lived  for  some  years  in  the  western  country. 

"You  don't  appreciate  the  true  significance  of  a 
table  napkin,  I  venture  to  say,  Miss  Cameron,"  said 
the  doctor, '  *  until  you  have  lived  a  year  in  this  country 
at  least,  or  how  much  an  unspotted  table  cloth  means, 
or  shining  cutlery  and  crockery." 

"Well,  I  have  been  two  days  at  the  Eoyal  Hotel, 
whatever,"  replied  Moira. 

"The  Eoyal  Hotel!"  exclaimed  the  doctor  aghast. 
"Our  most  palatial  Western  hostelry — all  the  com- 
forts and  conveniences  of  civilization ! ' ' 

"Anyway,  I  like  this  better,"  said  Moira,  "It  is 
like  home." 

"Is  it,  indeed,  my  dear?"  said  the  minister's  wife 
greatly  delighted.  "You  have  paid  me  a  very  fine 
tribute." 

The  hour  lengthened  into  two,  for  when  a  departure 
was  suggested  the  doctor  grew  eloquent  in  urging 
delay.  The  horses  would  be  all  the  better  for  the  rest. 
It  would  be  fine  driving  in  the  evening.  They  could 


RAVEN   TO    THE   RESCUE         147 

easily  make  the  Black  Dog  Ford  before  dark.  After 
that  the  trail  was  good  for  twenty  miles,  where  they 
would  camp.  But  like  all  happy  hours  these  hours  fled 
past,  and  all  too  swiftly,  and  soon  the  travelers  were 
ready  to  depart. 

Before  the  Stopping  Place  door  Hell  was  holding 
down  the  bronchos,  while  Cameron  was  packing  in  the 
valises  and  making  all  secure  again.  Near  the  wagon 
stood  the  doctor  waiting  their  departure. 

1  'You  are  going  back  from  here,  Dr.  Martin?"  said 
Moira. 

"Yes,"  said  the  doctor,  "I  am  going  back." 

"It  has  been  good  to  see  you,"  she  said.  "I  hope 
next  time  you  will  know  me." 

"Ah,  now,  Miss  Cameron,  don't  rub  it  in.  You  see 
—but  what's  the  use?"  continued  the  doctor.  "You 
had  changed.  My  picture  of  the  girl  I  had  seen  in 
the  Highlands  that  day  never  changed  and  never  will 
change."  The  doctor's  keen  gray  eyes  burned  into 
hers  for  a  moment.  A  slight  flush  came  to  her  cheek 
and  she  found  herself  embarrassed  for  want  of  words. 
Her  embarrassment  was  relieved  by  the  sound  of  hoofs 
pounding  down  the  trail. 

"Hello,  who's  this?"  said  the  doctor,  as  they  stood 
watching  the  horseman  approaching  at  a  rapid  pace 
and  accompanied  by  a  cloud  of  dust.  Nearer  and 
nearer  he  came,  still  on  the  gallop  till  within  a  few 
yards  of  the  group. 

"My!"  cried  Moira.  "Whoever  he  is  he  will  run 
us  down ! ' '  and  she  sprang  into  her  place  in  the  demo- 
crat. , 

Without  slackening  rein  the  rider  came  up  to  the 
Stopping  Place  door  at  a  full  gallop,  then  at  a  single 
word  his  horse  planted  his  four  feet  solidly  on  thc: 


148         THE   SUN   DANCE   TEAIL 

trail,  and,  plowing  up  the  dirt,  came  to  a  standstill; 
then,  throwing  up  his  magnificent  head,  he  gave  a  loud 
snort  and  stood,  a  perfect  picture  of  equine  beauty. 

"Oh,  what  a  horse!"  breathed  Moira.  "How  per- 
fectly splendid !  And  what  a  rider ! ' '  she  added.  *  *  Do 
you  know  him?" 

"I  do  not,"  said  the  doctor,  conscious  of  a  feeling 
of  hostility  to  the  stranger,  and  all  the  more  because 
he  was  forced  to  acknowledge  to  himself  that  the 
rider  and  his  horse  made  a  very  striking  picture.  The 
man  was  tall  and  sinewy,  with  dark,  clean-cut  face, 
thin  lips,  firm  chin  and  deep-set,  brown-gray  eyes  that 
glittered  like  steel,  and  with  that  unmistakable  some- 
thing in  his  bearing  that  suggested  the  breeding  of  a 
gentleman.  His  horse  was  as  distinguished  as  its 
rider.  His  coal  black  skin  shone  like  silk,  his  flat  legs, 
sloping  hips,  well-ribbed  barrel,  small  head,  large, 
flashing  eyes,  all  proclaimed  his  high  breeding. 

'  *  What  a  beauty !  What  a  beauty ! ' '  breathed  Moira 
again  to  the  doctor. 

As  if  in  answer  to  her  praise  the  stranger,  raising 
his  Stetson,  swept  her  an  elaborate  bow,  and,  touching 
his  horse,  moved  nearer  to  the  door  of  the  Stopping 
Place  and  swung  himself  to  the  ground. 

"Ah,  Cameron,  it's  you,  sure  enough.  I  can  hardly 
believe  my  good  fortune." 

"Hello,  Eaven,  that  you?"  said  Cameron  indiffer- 
ently. "Hope  you  are  fit?"  But  he  made  no  motion 
to  offer  his  hand  nor  did  he  introduce  him  to  the 
company.  At  the  sound  of  his  name  Dr.  Martin  started 
and  swept  his  keen  eyes  over  the  stranger's  face.  He 
had  heard  that  name  before. 

"Fit?"  inquired  the  stranger  whom  Cameron  had 
saluted  as  Eaven.  ' '  Fit  as  ever, ' '  a  hard  smile  curling 


EAVEN   TO    THE   RESCUE         149 

his  lips  as  he  noted  Cameron's  omission.  "Hello, 
Hell!"  he  continued,  his  eyes  falling  upon  that  indi- 
vidual, who  was  struggling  with  the  restive  ponies, 
"how  goes  it  with  your  noble  self?" 

Hastily  Hell,  leaving  the  bronchos  for  the  moment, 
responded,  "Hello,  Mr.  Eaven,  mighty  glad  to  see 
you ! ' ' 

Meantime  the  bronchos,  freed  from  Hell's  super- 
vision, and  apparently  interested  in  the  strange  horse 
who  was  viewing  them  with  lordly  disdain,  turned  their 
heads  and  took  the  liberty  of  sniffing  at  the  newcomer. 
Instantly,  with  mouth  wide  open  and  ears  flat  on  his 
head,  the  black  horse  rushed  at  the  bronchos.  With  a 
single  bound  they  were  off,  the  lines  trailing  in  the 
dust.  Together  Hell,  Cameron  and  the  doctor  sprang 
for  the  wagon,  but  before  they  could  touch  it  it  was 
whisked  from  underneath  their  fingers  as  the  bronchos 
dashed  in  a  mad  gallop  down  the  trail,  Moira  mean- 
time clinging  desperately  to  the  seat  of  the  pitching 
wagon.  After  them  darted  Cameron  and  for  some 
moments  it  seemed  as  if  he  could  overtake  the  flying 
ponies,  but  gradually  they  drew  away  and  he  gave  up 
the  chase.  After  him  followed  the  whole  company,  his 
wife,  the  doctor,  Hell,  all  in  a  blind  horror  of  help- 
lessness. 

"My  God!  My  God!"  cried  Cameron,  Ms  breath 
coming  in  sobbing  gasps.  "The  cut  bank!" 

Hardly  were  the  words  out  of  Ms  mouth  when  Eaven 
came  up  at  an  easy  canter. 

* '  Don 't  worry, ' '  he  said  quietly  to  Mandy,  wrho  was 
wringing  her  hands  in  despair,  "I'll  get  them." 

Like  a  swallow  for  swiftness  and  for  grace,  the  black 
stallion  sped  away,  flattening  his  body  to  the  trail  as 


150 


he  gathered  speed.  The  bronchos  had  a  hundred 
yards  of  a  start,  but  they  had  not  run  another  hun- 
dred until  the  agonized  group  of  watchers  could  see 
that  the  stallion  was  gaining  rapidly  upon  them. 

"He'll  get  'em,"  cried  Hell,  "he'll  get  'em,  by 
gum ! ' ' 

"But  can  he  turn  them  from  the  bank?"  groaned 
Mandy. 

"If  anything  in  horse-flesh  or  man-flesh  can  do  it," 
said  Hell,  "it'll  be  done." 

But  a  tail-race  is  a  long  race  and  a  hundred  yards' 
start  is  a  serious  handicap  in  a  quarter  of  a  mile. 
Down  the  sloping  trail  the  bronchos  were  running 
savagely,  their  noses  close  to  earth,  their  feet  on  the 
hard  ground  like  the  roar  of  a  kettledrum,  their  har- 
ness and  trappings  fluttering  over  their  backs,  the 
wagon  pitching  like  a  ship  in  a  gale,  the  girl  cling- 
ing to  its  high  seat  as  a  sailor  to  a  swaying  mast. 
Behind,  and  swiftly  drawing  level  with  the  flying 
bronchos,  sped  the  black  horse,  still  with  that  smooth 
grace  of  a  skimming  swallow  and  with  such  ease  of 
motion  as  made  it  seem  as  if  he  could  readily  have 
increased  his  speed  had  he  so  chosen. 

"My  God!  why  doesn't  he  send  the  brute  along?" 
cried  Dr.  Martin,  his  stark  face  and  staring  eyes  pro- 
claiming his  agony. 

"He  is  up!    He  is  up!"  cried  Cameron. 

The  agonized  watchers  saw  the  rider  lean  far  over 
the  bronchos  and  seize  one  line,  then  gradually  begin 
to  turn  the  flying  ponies  away  from  the  cut  bank  and 
steer  them  in  a  wide  circle  across  the  prairie. 

' <  Thank  God !  Thank  God !  Oh,  thank  God ! ' '  cried 
the  doctor  brokenly,  wiping  the  sweat  from  his  face. 


EAVEN   TO    THE   RESCUE         151 

1  'Let  us  go  to  head  them  off,"  said  Cameron,  set- 
ting off  at  a  run,  leaving  the  doctor  and  his  wife  to 
follow. 

As  they  watched  with  staring  eyes  the  racing  horses 
they  saw  Eaven  bring  back  the  line  to  the  girl  clinging 
to  the  wagon  seat,  then  the  black  stallion,  shooting  in 
front  of  the  ponies,  began  to  slow  down  upon  them, 
hampering  their  running  till  they  were  brought  to  an 
easy  canter,  and,  under  the  more  active  discipline  of 
teeth  and  hoofs,  were  forced  to  a  trot  and  finally 
brought  to  a  standstill,  and  so  held  till  Cameron  and 
the  doctor  came  up  to  them, 

''Eaven,"  gasped  Cameron,  fighting  for  his  breath 
and  coming  forward  with  hand  outstretched,  "you 
have — done — a  great  thing — to-day — for  me.  I  shall 
not — forget  it." 

"Tut  tut,  Cameron,  simple  thing.  I  fancy  you  are 
still  a  few  points  ahead, ' '  said  Eaven,  taking  his  hand 
in  a  strong  grip.  "After  all,  it  was  Night  Hawk  did 
it." 

"You  saved — my  sister's  life,"  continued  Cameron, 
still  struggling  for  breath. 

"Perhaps,  perhaps,  but  I  don't  forget,"  and  here 
Eaven  leaned  over  his  saddle  and  spoke  in  a  lower 
voice,  "I  don't  forget  the  day  you  saved  mine,  my 
boy." 

"Come,"  said  Cameron,  "let  me  present  you  to  my 
sister. ' ' 

Instantly  Eaven  swung  himself  from  his  horse. 

"Stand,  Night  Hawk!"  he  commanded,  and  the 
horse  stood  like  a  soldier  on  guard. 

"Moira,"  said  Cameron,  still  panting  hard,  "this  is 
« — my  friend — Mr.  Eaven." 


152         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

Eaven  stood  bowing  before  her  with  his  hat  in  his 
hand,  but  the  girl  leaned  far  down  from  her  seat  with 
both  hands  outstretched. 

"I  thank  you,  Mr.  Eaven,"  she  said  in  a  quiet  voice, 
but  her  brown  eyes  were  shining  like  stars  in  her 
white  face.  "You  are  a  wonderful  rider." 

"I  could  not  have  done  it,  Miss  Cameron,"  said. 
Eaven,  a  wonderfully  sweet  smile  lighting  up  his  hard 
face,  ' '  I  could  not  have  done  it  had  you  ever  lost  your 
nerve. ' ' 

"I  had  no  fear  after  I  saw  your  face,"  said  the  girl 
simply.  "I  knew  you  could  do  it." 

' '  Ah,  and  how  did  you  know  that  ? ' '  His  gray-brown 
eyes  searched  her  face  more  keenly. 

"I  cannot  tell.    I  just  knew." 

"Let  me  introduce  my  friend,  Dr.  Martin,"  said 
Cameron  as  the  doctor  came  up. 

"I — too — want  to  thank  you — Mr.  Eaven,"  said  the 
doctor,  seizing  him  with  both  hands.  "I  never  can— 
We  never  can  forget  it — or  repay  you." 

"Oh,"  said  Eaven,  with  a  careless  laugh,  "what  else 
could  I  do?  After  all  it  was  Night  Hawk  did  the 
trick."  He  lifted  his  hat  again  to  Moira,  bowed  with 
a  beautiful  grace,  threw  himself  on  his  horse  and  stood 
till  the  two  men,  after  carefully  examining  the  harness 
and  securing  the  reins,  had  climbed  to  their  places  on 
the  wagon  seat. 

Then  he  trotted  on  before  toward  the  Stopping 
Place,  where  the  minister's  wife  and  indeed  the  whole 
company  of  villagers  awaited  them. 

"Oh,  isn't  he  wonderful!"  cried  Moira,  with  her 
eyes  upon  the  rider  in  front  of  them.  "And  he  did  it 
so  easily."  But  the  men  sat  silent.  "Who  is  he, 
Allan!  You  know  him." 


RAVEN   TO    THE   RESCUE         153 

"Yes — he  is — he  is  a  chap  I  met  when  I  was  on  the 
Force." 

"A  Policeman?" 

"No,  no,"  replied  her  brother  hastily. 

"What  then?    Does  he  live  here?" 

"He  lives  somewhere  south.  Don't  know  exactly 
where  he  lives." 

' '  What  is  he  ?    A  rancher  ? '  > 

"A  rancher?  Ah — yes,  yes,  he  is  a  rancher  I  fancy. 
Don't  know  very  well.  That  is — I  have  seen  little  of 
him — in  fact — only  a  couple  of  times — or  so." 

"He  seems  to  know  you,  Allan,"  said  his  sister  a 
little  reproachfully.  "Anyway,"  she  continued  with 
a  deep  breath,  "he  is  just  splendid."  Dr.  Martin 
glanced  at  her  face  glowing  with  enthusiasm  and  was 
shamefully  conscious  of  a  jealous  pang  at  his  heart. 
"He  is  just  splendid,"  continued  Moira,  with  growing 
enthusiasm,  "and  I  mean  to  know  more  of  him." 

"What?"  said  her  brother  sharply,  as  if  waking 
from  a  dream.  "Nonsense,  Moira!  You  do  not  know 
what  you  are  talking  about.  You  must  not  speak  like 
that." 

"And  why,  pray?"  asked  his  sister  in  surprise. 

"Oh,  never  mind  just  now,  Moira.  In  this  country 
we  don't  take  up  with  strangers." 

"Strangers?"  echoed  the  girl,  pain  mingling  with 
her  surprise.  "And  yet  he  saved  my  life!" 

"Yes,  thank  God,  he  saved  your  life,"  cried  her 
brother,  "and  we  shall  never  cease  to  be  grateful  to 
him,  but — but — oh,  drop  it  just  now  please,  Moira. 
You  don 't  know  and — here  we  are.  How  white  Mandy 
is.  What  a  terrible  experience  for  us  all!" 

"Terrible  indeed,"  echoed  the  doctor. 


154 


"Terrible?"  said  Moira.  "It  might  have  been 
worse." 

To  this  neither  made  reply,  but  there  came  a  day 
when  both  doubted  such  a  possibility. 


SMITH'S   WOEK  155 

CHAPTER   XI 

SMITH'S  WOKK 

THE  short  September  day  was  nearly  gone.  The 
sun  still  rode  above  the  great  peaks  that  out- 
lined the  western  horizon.  Already  the  shad- 
ows were  beginning  to  creep  up  the  eastern  slope  of 
the  hills  that  clambered  till  they  reached  the  bases 
of  the  great  mountains.  A  purple  haze  hung  over 
mountain,  hill  and  rolling  plain,  softening  the  sharp 
outlines  that  ordinarily  defined  the  features  of  the 
foothill  landscape. 

With  the  approach  of  evening  the  fierce  sun  heat  had 
ceased  and  a  fresh  cooling  western  breeze  from  the 
mountain  passes  brought  welcome  refreshment  alike  to 
the  travelers  and  their  beasts,  wearied  with  their 
three  days'  drive. 

"That  is  the  last  hill,  Moira,"  cried  her  sister-in- 
law,  pointing  to  a  long  slope  before  them.  ' '  The  very 
last,  I  promise  you.  From  the  top  we  can  see  our 
home.  Our  home,  alas,  I  had  forgotten !  There  is  no 
home  there,  only  a  black  spot  on  the  prairie." 

Her  husband  grunted  savagely  and  cut  sharply  at 
the  bronchos. 

"But  the  tent  will  be  fine,  Mandy.  I  just  long  for 
the  experience,"  said  Moira. 

"Yes,  but  just  think  of  all  my  pretty  things,  and 
some  of  Allan's  too,  all  gone." 

"Were  the  pipes  burned,  Allan?"  cried  Moira  with 
a  sudden  anxiety. 

"Were  they,  Mandy ?  I  never  thought,"  said  Cam- 
eron. 

"The  pipes?    Let  me  see.    No — no — you  remember, 


156         THE   SUN   DANCE   TEAIL 

Allan,  young — what's  his  name? — that  young  High- 
lander at  the  Fort  wanted  them." 

*  *  Sure  enough — Macgregor, ' '  said  her  husband  in  a 
tone  of  immense  relief. 

"Yes,  young  Mr.  Macgregor." 

"My,  but  that  is  fine,  Allan,"  said  his  sister.  "I 
should  have  grieved  if  we  could  not  hear  the  pipes 
again  among  these  hills.  Oh,  it  is  all  so  bonny;  just 
look  at  the  big  Bens  yonder." 

It  was,  as  she  said,  all  bonny.  Far  toward  their 
left  the  low  hills  rolled  in  soft  swelling  waves  toward 
the  level  prairie,  and  far  away  to  the  right  the  hills 
climbed  by  sharper  ascents,  flecked  here  and  there  with 
dark  patches  of  fir,  and  broken  with  jutting  ledges 
of  gray  limestone,  climbed  till  they  reached  the  great 
Eockies,  majestic  in  their  massive  serried  ranges  that 
pierced  the  western  sky.  And  all  that  lay  between, 
the  hills,  the  hollows,  the  rolling  prairie,  was  bathed 
in  a  multitudinous  riot  of  color  that  made  a  scene  of 
loveliness  beyond  power  of  speech  to  describe. 

"Oh,  Allan,  Allan,"  cried  his  sister,  "I  never 
thought  to  see  anything  as  lovely  as  the  Cuagh  Oir, 
but  this  is  up  to  it  I  do  believe." 

"It  must  indeed  be  lovely,  then,"  said  her  brother 
with  a  smile,  "if  you  can  say  that.  And  I  am  glad  you 
like  it.  I  was  afraid  that  you  might  not." 

"Here  we  are,  just  at  the  top,"  cried  Mandy.  "In 
a  minute  beyond  the  shoulder  there  we  shall  see  the 
Big  Horn  Valley  and  the  place  where  our  home  used 
to  be.  There,  wait  Allan." 

The  ponies  came  to  a  stand.  Exclamations  of 
amazement  burst  from  Cameron  and  his  wife. 

"Why,  Allan?    What?    Is  this  the  trail?" 


SMITH'S   WORK  157 

"It  is  the  trail  all  right,"  said  her  husband  in  a 
low  voice,  "but  what  in  thunder  does  this  mean?" 

"It  is  a  house,  Allan,  a  new  house." 

"It  looks  like  it— but " 

"And  there  are  people  all  about!" 

For  some  breathless  moments  they  gazed  upon  the 
scene.  A  wide  valley,  flanked  by  hills  and  threaded 
by  a  gleaming  river,  lay  before  them  and  in  a  bend 
of  the  river  against  the  gold  and  yellow  of  a  poplar 
bluff  stood  a  log  house  of  comfortable  size  gleaming 
in  all  its  newness  fresh  from  the  ax  and  saw. 

"What  does  it  all  mean,  Allan?"  inquired  his  wife. 

"Blest  if  I  know!" 

"Look  at  the  people.  I  know  now,  Allan.  It's  a 
'raising  bee.'  A  raising  bee !"  she  cried  with  growing 
enthusiasm.  "You  remember  them  in  Ontario.  It's 
a  bee,  sure  enough.  Oh,  hurry,  let's  go!" 

The  bronchos  seemed  to  catch  her  excitement,  Jheir 
weariness  disappeared,  and,  pulling  hard  on  the  bit, 
they  tore  down  the  winding  trail  as  if  at  the  begin- 
ning rather  than  at  the  end  of  their  hundred  and  fifty 
mile  drive. 

"What  a  size!"  cried  Mandy. 

"And  a  cook  house,  too!" 

' l  And  a  verandah ! ' ' 

"And  a  shingled  roof!" 

"And  all  the  people!  Where  in  the  world  can  they 
have  come  from?" 

"There's  the  Inspector,  anyway,"  said  Cameron. 
"He  is  at  the  bottom  of  this,  I'll  bet  you." 

"And  Mr.  Cochrane!  And  that  young  Englishman, 
Mr.  Newsome!" 

"And  old  Thatcher!" 


158         THE    SUN   DANCE    TEAIL 

"And  Mrs.  Coclirane,  and  Mr.  Dent,  and,  oh,  there's 
my  friend  Smith!  You  remember  he  helped  me  put 
out  the  fire." 

Soon  they  were  at  the  gate  of  the  corral  where  a 
group  of  men  and  women  stood  awaiting  them.  In- 
spector Dickson  was  first : 

"Hello,  Cameron!  Got  back,  eh?  "Welcome  home, 
Mrs.  Cameron,"  he  said  as  he  helped  her  to  alight. 

Smith  stood  at  the  bronchos'  heads. 

"Now,  Inspector,"  said  Cameron,  holding  him  by 
hand  and  collar,  "now  what  does  this  business  mean?" 

'  *  Mean  ? ' '  cried  the  Inspector  with  a  laugh.  1 1  Means 
just  what  you  see.  But  won't  you  introduce  us  all?" 

After  all  had  been  presented  to  his  sister  Cameron 
pursued  his  question.  "What  does  it  mean,  In- 
spector?" 

"Mean?    Ask  Cochrane." 

"Mr.  Cochrane,  tell  me,"  cried  Mandy,  "who  began 
this?" 

"Ask  Mr.  Thatcher  there,"  replied  Mr.  Cochrane. 

"Who  is  responsible  for  this,  Mr.  Thatcher?"  cried 
Mandy. 

"Don't  rightly  know  how  the  thing  started.  First 
thing  I  knowed  they  was  all  at  it. ' ' 

"See  here,  Thatcher,  you  might  as  well  own  up.  I 
am  going  to  know  anyway.  Where  did  the  logs  come 
from,  for  instance!"  said  Cameron  in  a  determined 
voice. 

"Logs?  Guess  Bracken  knows,"  replied  Cochrane, 
turning  to  a  tall,  lanky  rancher  who  was  standing  at  a 
little  distance. 

"Bracken,"  cried  Cameron,  striding  to  him  with 
hand  outstretched,  "what  about  the  logs  for  the  house? 
Where  did  they  come  from  ? ' ' 


SMITH'S   WORK  159 

''Well,  I  dunno.  Smith  was  sayin'  sometkin'  about 
a  bee  and  gettin'  green  logs." 

"Smith?"  cried  Cameron,  glancing  at  that  indi- 
vidual now  busy  unhitching  the  bronchos. 

"And  of  course,"  continued  Bracken,  "green  logs 
ain't  any  use  for  a  real  good  house,  so — and  then — • 
well,  I  happened  to  have  a  bunch  of  logs  up  the  Big 
Horn.  I  guess  the  boys  floated  'em  down." 

"Come  away,  Mrs.  Cameron,  and  inspect  your 
house,"  cried  a  stout,  red-faced  matron.  "I  said  they 
ought  to  await  your  coming  to  get  your  plans,  but  Mr. 
Smith  said  he  knew  a  little  about  building  and  that 
they  might  as  well  go  on  with  it.  It  was  getting  late 
in  the  season,  and  so  they  went  at  it.  Come  away, 
we're  having  a  great  time  over  it.  Indeed,  I  think 
we've  enjoyed  it  more  than  ever  you  will." 

"But  you  haven't  told  us  yet  who  started  it,"  cried 
Mandy. 

"Where  did  you  get  the  lumber?"  said  Cameron. 

"Well,  the  lumber,"  replied  Cochrane,  "came  from 
the  Fort,  I  guess.  Didn't  it,  Inspector!" 

"Yes,"  replied  the  Inspector.  "We  had  no  imme- 
diate use  for  it,  and  Smith  told  us  just  how  much  it 
would  take." 

"Smith?"  said  Cameron  again.  "Hello,  Smith!" 
But  Smith  was  already  leading  the  bronchos  away  to 
the  stable. 

"Yes,"  continued  the  Inspector,  "and  Smith  was 
wondering  how  a  notice  could  be  sent  up  to  the  Spruce 
Creek  boys  and  to  Loon  Lake,  so  I  sent  a  man  with 
the  word  and  they  brought  down  the  lumber  without 
any  trouble.  But,"  continued  the  Inspector,  "come 
along,  Cameron,  let  us  follow  the  ladies." 

"But  this  is  growing  more  and  more  mysterious," 


160         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

protested  Cameron.  "Can  no  one  tell  me  how  the 
thing  originated?  The  sash  and  doors  now,  where  did 
they  come  from?" 

"Oh,  that's  easy,"  said  Cochrane.  "I  was  at  the 
Post  Office,  and,  hearin'  Smith  talkin'  'bout  this  raisin' 
bee  and  how  they  were  stuck  for  sash  and  door,  so 
seein'  I  wasn't  goin'  to  build  this  fall  I  told  him  he 
might  as  well  have  the  use  of  these.  My  team  was 
laid  up  and  Smith  got  Jim  Bracken  to  haul  'em  down." 

"Well,  this  gets  me,"  said  Cameron.  "It  appears 
no  one  started  this  thing.  Everything  just  happened. 
Now  the  shingles,  I  suppose  they  just  tumbled  up  into 
their  place  there." 

"The  shingles'?"  said  Cochrane.  "I  dunno  'bout 
them.  Didn't  know  there  were  any  in  the  country." 

' '  Oh,  they  just  got  up  into  place  there  of  themselves 
I  have  no  doubt,"  said  Cameron. 

"The  shingles?  Ah,  bay  Jove!  Eawthah!  Funny 
thing,  don't-che-naow,"  chimed  in  a  young  fellow  at- 
tired in  rather  emphasized  cow-boy  style,  "funny 
thing !  A  Johnnie — quite  a  strangah  to  me,  don  't-che- 
naow,  was  riding  pawst  my  place  lawst  week  and  men- 
tioned about  this — ah — raisin'  bee  he  called  it  I  think, 
and  in  fact  abaout  the  blawsted  Indian,  and  the  fire, 
don't-che-naow,  and  all  the  rest  of  it,  and  how  the 
chaps  were  all  chipping  in  as  he  said,  logs  and  lumbah 
and  so  fowth.  And  then,  bay  Jove,  he  happened  to 
mention  that  they  were  rathah  stumped  for  shingles, 
don  't-che-naow,  and,  funny  thing,  there  chawnced  to  be 
behind  my  stable  a  few  bunches,  and  I  was  awfully 
glad  to  tu'n  them  ovah,  and  this — eh — pehson — most 
extraordinary  chap  I  assuah  you — got  'em  down  some- 
how. ' ' 

' '  Who  was  it  inquired  ? ' '  asked  Cameron. 


SMITH'S   WOEK  161 

"Don't  naow  him  in  the  least.  But  it's  the  chap 
that  seems  to  be  bossing  the  job." 

"Oh,  that's  Smith,"  said  Cochrane. 

"Smith!"  said  Cameron,  in  great  surprise.  "I 
don't  even  know  the  man.  He  was  good  enough  to 
help  my  wife  to  beat  back  the  fire.  I  don't  believe  I 
even  spoke  to  him.  Who  is  he  anyway?" 

"Oh,  he's  Thatcher's  man." 

"Yes,  but " 

"Come  away,  Mr.  Cameron,"  cried  Mrs.  Cochrane 
from  the  door  of  the  new  house.  "Come  away  in  and 
look  at  the  result  of  our  bee." 

"This  beats  me,"  said  Cameron,  obeying  the  invita- 
tion, * ;  but,  say,  Dickson,  it  is  mighty  good  of  all  these 
men.  I  have  no  claim " 

"Claim?"  said  Mr.  Cochrane.  "It  might  have  been 
any  of  us.  We  must  stand  together  in  this  country, 
and  especially  these  days,  eh,  Inspector?  Things  are 
gettin'  serious." 

The  Inspector  nodded  his  head  gravely. 

"Yes,"  he  said.  "But,  Mr.  Cochrane,"  he  added  in 
a  low  voice,  "it  is  very  necessary  that  as  little  as 
possible  should  be  said  about  these  things  just  now. 
No  occasion  for  any  excitement  or  fuss.  The  quieter 
things  are  kept  the  better." 

"All  right,  Inspector,  I  understand,  but " 

"What  do  you  think  of  your  new  house,  Mr.  Cam- 
eron?" cried  Mrs.  Cochrane.  "Come  in.  Now  what 
do  you  think  of  this  for  three  days'  work?" 

"Oh,  Allan,  I  have  been  all  through  it  and  it's  per- 
fectly wonderful,"  said  his  wife. 

"Oh  nothing  very  wonderful,  Mrs.  Cameron,"  said 
Cochrane,  "but  it  will  do  for  a  while." 

"Perfectly  wonderful  in  its  whole  plan,  and  beauti- 


162         THE   SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

fully  complete,"  insisted  Mandy.  "See,  a  living- 
room,  a  lovely  large  one,  two  bedrooms  off  it,  and. 
look  here,  cupboards  and  closets,  and  a  pantry,  and— 
here  she  opened  the  door  in  the  corner — "a  perfectly 
lovely  up-stairs!  Not  to  speak  of  the  cook-house  out 
at  the  back." 

"Wonderful  is  the  word,"  said  Cameron,  "for  why 
in  all  the  world  should  these  people ?" 

"And  look,  Allan,  at  Moira!  She's  just  lost  in  rap- 
ture over  that  fireplace." 

"And  I  don't  wonder,"  said  her  husband.  "It  is 
really  fine.  Whose  idea  was  it?"  he  continued,  mov- 
ing toward  Moira 's  side,  who  was  standing  before  a 
large  fireplace  of  beautiful  masonry  set  in  between 
the  two  doors  that  led  to  the  bedrooms  at  the  far  end 
of  the  living-room. 

"It  was  Andy  Hepburn  from  Loon  Lake  that  built 
it,"  said  Mr.  Cochrane. 

"I  wish  I  could  thank  him,"  said  Moira  fervently. 

"Well,  there  he  is  outside  the  window,  Miss  Moira," 
said  a  young  fellow  who  was  supposed  to  be  busy 
putting  up  a  molding  round  the  wainscoting,  but  who 
was  in  reality  devoting  himself  to  the  young  lady  at 
the  present  moment  with  open  admiration.  "Here, 
Andy,"  he  cried  through  the  window,  "you're  wanted. 
Hurry  up." 

"Oh,  don't,  Mr.  Dent.    What  will  he  think?" 

A  hairy  little  man,  with  a  face  dour  and  unmistak- 
ably Scotch,  came  in. 

"What's  want-it,  then?"  he  asked,  with  a  deliberate 
sort  of  gruffness. 

"It's  yourself,  Andy,  me  boy,"  said  young  Dent, 
who,  though  Canadian  born,  needed  no  announcement 
of  his  Irish  ancestry.  "It  is  yourself,  Andy,  and  this 


SMITH'S    WORK  163 

young  lady,  Miss  Moira  Cameron — Mr.  Hepburn — " 
Andy  made  reluctant  acknowledgment  of  her  smile 
and  bow — "wants  to  thank  you  for  this  fireplace." 

"  It  is  very  beautiful  indeed,  Mr.  Hepburn,  and  very 
thankful  I  am  to  you  for  building  it." 

"Aw,  it's  no  that  bad,"  admitted  Andy.  "But  ye 
need  not  thank  me." 

"But  you  built  it?" 

"Aye  did  I.  But  no  o'  ma  ain  wull.  A  fireplace  is 
a  feckless  thing  in  this  country  an'  I  think  little  o't." 

"Whose  idea  was  it  then?" 

"It  was  yon  Smith  buddie.  He  juist  keepit  dingin' 
awa '  till  A  promised  if  he  got  the  lime — A  kent  o '  nane 
in  the  country — A  wud  build  the  thing." 

"And  he  got  the  lime,  eh,  Andy?"  said  Dent. 

"Aye,  he  got  it,"  said  Andy  sourly.  "Diel  kens 
whaur. ' ' 

"But  I  am  sure  you  did  it  beautifully,  Mr.  Hep- 
burn," said  Moira,  moving  closer  to  him,  "and  it 
will  be  making  me  think  of  home."  Her  soft  High- 
land accent  and  the  quaint  Highland  phrasing  seemed 
to  reach  a  soft  spot  in  the  little  Scot. 

"Hame?  An'  whaur 's  that?"  he  inquired,  mani- 
festing a  grudging  interest. 

"Where?  Where  but  in  the  best  of  all  lands,  in 
Scotland,"  said  Moira.  "Near  Braemar." 

"Braemar?" 

"Aye,  Braemar.    I  have  only  come  four  days  ago." 

"Aye,  an'  did  ye  say,  lassie!"  said  Andy,  with  a 
faint  accession  of  interest.  "It's  a  bonny  country 
ye've  left  behind,  and  far  enough  frae  here." 

"Far  indeed,"  said  Moira,  letting  her  shining  brown 
eyes  rest  upon  his  face.  "And  it  is  myself  that  knows 
it.  But  when  the  fire  burns  yonder, ' '  she  added,  point- 


161         THE    SUN   DANCE    TEAIL 

ing  to  the  fireplace,  '  *  I  will  be  seeing  the  hills  and  the 
glens  and  the  moors." 

"  'Deed,  then,  lassie,"  said  Andy  in  a  low  hurried 
voice,  moving  toward  the  door,  "A'm  gled  that  Smith 
buddie  gar't  me  build  it." 

"Wait,  Mr.  Hepburn,"  said  Moira,  shyly  holding 
out  her  hand,  ''don't  you  think  that  Scotties  in  this 
far  land  should  be  friends  1 ' ' 

"An'  prood  I'd  be,  Miss  Cameron,"  replied  Andy, 
and,  seizing  her  hand,  he  gave  it  a  violent  shake,  flung 
it  from  him  and  fled  through  the  door. 

"He's  a  cure,  now,  isn't  he!"  said  Dent. 

"I  think  he  is  fine,"  said  Moira  with  enthusiasm. 
"It  takes  a  Scot  to  understand  a  Scot,  you  see,  and 
I  am  glad  I  know  him.  Do  you  know,  he  is  a  little  like 
the  fireplace  himself,"  she  said,  "rugged,  a  wee  bit 
rough,  but  fine." 

« '  The  real  stuff,  eh  1"  said  Dent.    ' '  The  pure  quill. ' ' 

"Yes,  that  is  it.  Solid  and  steadfast,  with  no  pre- 
tense. ' ' 

Meanwhile  the  work  of  inspecting  the  new  house  was 
going  on.  Everywhere  appeared  fresh  cause  for  de- 
lighted wonder,  but  still  the  origin  of  the  raising  bee 
remained  a  mystery. 

Balked  by  the  men,  Cameron  turned  in  his  search 
to  the  women  and  proceeded  to  the  tent  where  prepara- 
tions were  being  made  for  the  supper. 

"Tut  tut,  Mr.  Cameron,"  said  Mrs.  Cochrane,  her 
broad  good-natured  face  beaming  with  health  and  good 
humor,  "what  difference  does  it  make?  Your  neigh- 
bors are  only  too  glad  of  a  chance  to  show  their  good- 
will for  yourself,  and  more  for  your  wife. ' ' 

"I  am  sure  you  are  right  there,"  said  Cameron. 


SMITH'S   WORK  165 

"And  it  is  the  way  of  the  country.  We  must  stick 
together,  John  says.  It's  your  turn  to-day,  it  may  be 
ours  to-morrow  and  that's  all  there  is  to  it.  So  clear 
out  of  this  tent  and  make  yourself  busy.  By  the  way, 
where's  the  pipes?  The  folk  will  soon  be  asking  for 
a  tune." 

"But  I  want  to  know,  Mrs.  Cochrane,"  persisted 
Cameron. 

"Where's  the  pipes,  I'm  saying.  John,"  she  cried, 
lifting  her  voice,  to  her  husband,  who  was  standing 
at  the  other  side  of  the  house.  "Where's  the  pipes? 
They're  not  burned,  I  hope,"  she  continued,  turning  to 
Cameron.  "The  whole  settlement  would  feel  that  a 
loss." 

* '  Fortunately  no.  Young  Macgregor  at  the  Fort  has 
them." 

"Then  I  wonder  if  they  are  here.  John,  find  out 
from  the  Inspector  yonder  where  the  pipes  are.  We 
will  be  wanting  them  this  evening." 

To  her  husband's  inquiry  the  Inspector  replied  that 
if  Macgregor  ever  had  the  pipes  it  was  a  moral  cer- 
tainty that  he  had  carried  them  with  him  to  the  rais- 
ing, "for  it  is  my  firm  belief,"  he  added,  "that  he 
sleeps  with  them." 

"Do  go  and  see  now,  like  a  dear  man,"  said  Mrs. 
Cochrane  to  Cameron. 

From  group  to  group  of  the  workers  Cameron  went, 
exchanging  greetings,  but  persistently  seeking  to  dis- 
cover the  originator  of  the  raising  bee.  But  all  in 
vain,  and  in  despair  he  came  back  to  his  wife  with  the 
question  "Who  is  this  Smith,  anyway?" 

"Mr.  Smith,"  she  said  with  deliberate  emphasis, 
"is  my  friend,  my  particular  friend.  I  found  him  a 
friend  when  I  needed  one  badly. ' ' 


166         THE    SUN   DANCE   TEAIL 

"Yes,  but  who  is  he?"  inquired  Moira,  who,  with 
Mr.  Dent  in  attendance,  had  sauntered  up.  "Who  is 
he,  Mr.  Dent?  Do  you  know?" 

"No,  not  from  Adam's  mule.  He's  old  Thatcher's 
man.  That's  all  I  know  about  him. ' ' 

"He  is  Mr.  Thatcher's  man?  Oh!"  said  Moira, 
"Mr.  Thatcher's  servant."  A  subtle  note  of  dis- 
appointment sounded  in  her  voice. 

"Servant,  Moira?"  said  Allan  in  a  shocked  tone. 
"Wipe  out  the  thought.  There  is  no  such  thing  as 
servant  west  of  the  Great  Lakes  in  this  country.  A 
man  may  help  me  with  my  work  for  a  consideration, 
but  he  is  no  servant  of  mine  as  you  understand  the 
term,  for  he  considers  himself  just  as  good  as  I  am 
and  he  may  be  considerably  better." 

"Oh,  Allan,"  protested  his  sister  with  flushing  face, 
* '  I  know.  I  know  all  that,  but  you  know  what  I  mean. ' ' 

"Yes,  I  know  perfectly,"  said  her  brother,  "for  I 
had  the  same  notion.  For  instance,  for  six  months  I 
was  a  'servant'  in  Mandy's  home,  eh,  Mandy?" 

* '  Nonsense ! ' '  cried  Mandy  indignantly.  *  *  You  were 
our  hired  man  and  just  like  the  rest  of  us." 

"Do  you  get  that  distinction,  Moira?  There  is  no 
such  thing  as  servant  in  this  country,"  continued 
Cameron.  "We  are  all  the  same  socially  and  stand  to 
help  each  other.  Eather  a  fine  idea  that." 

"Yes,  fine,"  cried  Moira,  "but "  and  she  paused, 

her  face  still  flushed. 

"Who's  Smith?  is  the  great  question,"  interjected 
Dent.  "Well,  then,  Miss  Cameron,  between  you  and 
me  we  don't  ask  that  question  in  this  country.  Smith 
is  Smith  and  Jones  is  Jones  and  that's  the  first  and 
last  of  it.  We  all  let  it  go  at  that." 


SMITH'S   WOEK  167 

But  now  the  last  row  of  shingles  was  in  place,  the 
last  door  hung,  the  last  door-knob  set.  The  whole 
house  stood  complete,  inside  and  out,  top  and  bottom, 
when  a  tattoo  beat  upon  a  dish  pan  gave  the  sum- 
mons to  the  supper  table.  The  table  was  spread  in 
all  its  luxurious  variety  and  abundance  beneath  the 
poplar  trees.  There  the  people  gathered  all  upon  the 
basis  of  pure  democratic  equality,  "Duke's  son  and 
cook's  son,"  each  estimated  at  such  worth  as  could  be 
demonstrated  was  in  him.  Fictitious  standards  of 
values  were  ignored.  Every  man  was  given  his  fair 
opportunity  to  show  his  stuff  and  according  to  his 
showing  was  his  place  in  the  community.  A  generous 
good  fellowship  and  friendly  good-will  toward  the 
new-comer  pervaded  the  company,  but  with  all  this  a 
kind  of  reserve  marked  the  intercourse  of  these  men 
with  each  other.  Men  were  taken  on  trial  at  face 
value  and  no  questions  asked. 

This  evening,  however,  the  dominant  note  was  one 
of  generous  and  enthusiastic  sympathy  with  the  young 
rancher  and  his  wife,  who  had  come  so  lately  among 
them  and  who  had  been  made  the  unfortunate  victim 
of  a  sinister  and  threatening  foe,  hitherto,  it  is  true, 
regarded  with  indifference  or  with  friendly  pity  but 
lately  assuming  an  ominous  importance.  There  was 
underneath  the  gay  hilarity  of  the  gathering  an  under- 
tone of  apprehension  until  the  Inspector  made  his 
speech.  It  was  short  and  went  straight  at  the  mark. 
There  was  danger,  he  acknowledged.  It  would  be 
idle  to  ignore  that  there  were  ugly  rumors  flying. 
There  was  need  for  watchfulness,  but  there  was  no 
need  for  alarm.  The  Police  Force  was  charged  with 
the  responsibility  of  protecting  the  lives  and  property 
of  the  people.  They  assumed  to  the  full  this  responsi- 


168         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

bility,  though  they  were  very  short-handed  at  present, 
but  if  they  ever  felt  they  needed  assistance  they  knew 
they  could  rely  upon  the  steady  courage  of  the  men 
of  the  district  such  as  he  saw  before  him. 

There  was  need  of  no  further  words  and  the  In- 
spector's speech  passed  with  no  response.  It  was  not 
after  the  manner  of  these  men  to  make  demonstration 
either  of  their  loyalty  or  of  their  courage. 

Cameron's  speech  at  the  last  came  haltingly.  On  the 
one  hand  his  Highland  pride  made  it  difficult  for  him 
to  accept  gifts  from  any  source  whatever.  On  the 
other  hand  his  Highland  courtesy  forbade  his  giving 
offense  to  those  who  were  at  once  his  hosts  and  his 
guests,  but  none  suspected  the  reason  for  the  halting 
in  his  speech.  As  Western  men  they  rather  approved 
than  otherwise  the  hesitation  and  reserve  that  marked 
his  words. 

Before  they  rose  from  the  supper-  table,  however, 
there  were  calls  for  Mrs.  Cameron,  calls  so  insistent 
and  clamorous  that,  overcoming  her  embarrassment, 
she  made  reply.  "We  have  not  yet  found  out  who  was 
responsible  for  the  originating  of  this  great  kindness. 
But  no  matter.  We  forgive  him,  for  otherwise  my  hus- 
band and  I  would  never  have  come  to  know  how  rich 
we  are  in  true  friends  and  kind  neighbors,  and  now 
that  you  have  built  this  house  let  me  say  that  hence- 
forth by  day  or  by  night  you  are  welcome  to  it,  for  it 
is  yours." 

After  the  storm  of  applause  had  died  down,  a  voice 
was  heard  gruffly  and  somewhat  anxiously  protesting, 
"But  not  all  at  one  time." 

"Who  was  that?"  asked  Mandy  of  young  Dent  as 
the  supper  party  broke  up. 


SMITH'S   WORK  169 

"That's  Smith,"  said  Dent,  "and  he's  a  queer 
one." 

"Smith?"  said  Cameron.  "The  chap  meets,  us 
everywhere.  I  must  look  him  up." 

But  there  was  a  universal  and  insistent  demand  for 
"the  pipes." 

"You  look  him  up,  Mandy,"  cried  her  husband  as 
he  departed  in  response  to  the  call. 

"I  shall  find  him,  and  all  about  him,"  said  Mandy 
with  determination. 

The  next  two  hours  were  spent  in  dancing  to  Cam- 
eron's reels,  in  which  all,  with  more  or  less  grace, 
took  part  till  the  piper  declared  he  was  clean  done. 

"Let  Macgregor  have  the  pipes,  Cameron,"  cried 
the  Inspector.  "He  is  longing  for  a  chance,  I  am 
sure,  and  you  give  us  the  Highland  Fling. ' ' 

"Come  Moira,"  cried  Cameron  gaily,  handing  the 
pipes  to  Macgregor  and,  taking  his  sister  by  the  hand, 
he  led  her  out  into  the  intricacies  of  the  Highland 
Reel,  while  the  sides  of  the  living-room,  the  doors  and 
the  windows,  were  thronged  with  admiring  onlookers. 
Even  Andy  Hepburn's  rugged  face  lost  something  of 
its  dourness;  and  as  the  brother  and  sister  together 
did  that  most  famous  of  all  the  ancient  dances  of  Scot- 
land, the  Highland  Fling,  his  face  relaxed  into  a  broad 
smile. 

"There's  Smith,"  said  young  Dent  to  Mandy  in  a 
low  voice  as  the  reel  was  drawing  to  a  close. 

"Where?"  she  cried.  "I  have  been  looking  for  him 
everywhere. ' ' 

"There,  at  the  window,  outside." 

Even  in  the  dim  light  of  the  lanterns  and  candles 
hung  here  and  there  upon  the  walls  and  stuck  on  the 


170         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

window  sills,  Smith's  face,  pale,  stern,  sad,  shone  like 
a  specter  out  of  the  darkness  behind. 

"What's  the  matter  with  the  man?"  cried  Mandy. 
"I  must  find  out." 

Suddenly  the  reel  came  to  an  end  and  Cameron,  tak- 
ing the  pipes  from  young  Macgregor,  cried,  "Now, 
Moira,  we  will  give  them  our  way  of  it,"  and,  tuning 
the  pipes  anew,  he  played  over  once  and  again  their 
own  Glen  March,  known  only  to  the  piper  of  the  Cuagh 
Oir.  Then  with  cunning  skill  making  atmosphere,  he 
dropped  into  a  wild  and  weird  lament,  Moira  standing 
the  while  like  one  seeing  a  vision.  With  a  swift  change 
the  pipes  shrilled  into  the  true  Highland  version  of 
the  ancient  reel,  enriched  with  grace  notes  and  va- 
riations all  his  own.  For  a  few  moments  the  girl  stood 
as  if  unwilling  to  yield  herself  to  the  invitation  of 
the  pipes.  Suddenly,  as  if  moved  by  another  spirit 
than  her  own,  she  stepped  into  the  circle  and  whirled 
away  into  the  mazes  of  the  ancient  style  of  the  High- 
land Fling,  such  as  is  mastered  by  comparatively 
few  even  of  the  Highland  folk.  With  wonderful  grace 
and  supple  strength  she  passed  from  figure  to  figure 
and  from  step  to  step,  responding  to  the  wild  mad 
music  as  to  a  master  spirit. 

In  the  midst  of  the  dance  Mandy  made  her  way  out 
of  the  house  and  round  to  the  window  where  Smith 
stood  gazing  in  upon  the  dancer.  She  quietly  ap- 
proached 'him  from  behind  and  for  a  few  moments 
stood  at  his  side.  He  was  breathing  heavily  like  a  man 
in  pain. 

"What  is  it,  Mr.  Smith?"  she  said,  touching  him 
gently  on  the  shoulder. 

He  sprang  from  her  touch  as  from  a  stab  and  darted 
back  from  the  crowd  about  the  window. 


SMITH'S   WORK  171 

"What  is  it,  Mr.  Smith?"  she  said  again,  following 
him.  "You  are  not  well.  You  are  in  pain." 

He  stood  a  moment  or  two  gazing  at  her  with  staring 
eyes  and  parted  lips,  pain,  grief  and  even  rage  dis- 
torting his  pale  face. 

"It  is  wicked,"  at  length  he  panted.  "It  is  just 
terrible  wicked — a  young  girl  like  that." 

"Wicked?    Who?    What?" 

"That— that  girl— dancing  like  that." 

"Dancing?  That  kind  of  dancing?"  cried  Mandy, 
astonished.  "I  was  brought  up  a  Methodist  myself," 
she  continued,  * '  but  that  kind  of  dancing — why,  I  love 
it." 

"It  is  of  the  devil.  I  am  a  Methodist — a  preacher — 
but  I  could  not  preach,  so  I  quit.  But  that  is  of  the 
world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil  and — and  I  have  not  the 
courage  to  denounce  it.  She  is — God  help  me — so — so 
wonderful — so  wonderful. ' ' 

"But,  Mr.  Smith,"  said  Mandy,  laying  her  hand 
upon  his  arm,  and  seeking  to  sooth  his  passion, ' '  surely 
this  dancing  is " 

Loud  cheers  and  clapping  of  hands  from  the  house 
interrupted  her.  The  man  put  his  hands  over  his 
eyes  as  if  to  shut  out  a  horrid  vision,  shuddered  vio- 
lently, and  with  a  weird  sound  broke  from  her  touch 
and  fled  into  the  bluff  behind  the  house  just  as  the 
party  came  streaming  from  the  house  preparatory  to 
departing.  It  seemed  to  Mandy  as  if  she  had  caught 
a  glimpse  of  the  inner  chambers  of  a  soul  and  had  seen 
things  too  sacred  to  be  uttered. 

Among  the  last  to  leave  were  young  Dent  and  the 
Inspector. 

"We  have  found  out  the  culprit,"  cried  Dent,  as 
he  was  saying  good-night. 


172         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

' '  The  culprit  ? ' '  said  Mandy.    '  *  What  do  you  mean  ? ' ' 

"The  fellow  who  has  engineered  this  whole  busi- 
ness." 

"Who  is  it?"  said  Cameron. 

"Why,  listen,"  said  Dent.  "Who  got  the  logs  from 
Bracken?  Smith.  Who  got  the  Inspector  to  send  men 
through  the  settlement?  Smith.  Who  got  the  lumber 
out  of  the  same  Inspector?  Smith.  And  the  sash  and 
doors  out  of  Cochrane  ?  Smith.  And  wiggled  the  shin- 
gles out  of  Newsome?  And  euchred  old  Scotty  Hep- 
burn into  building  the  fireplace?  And  planned  and 
bossed  the  whole  job?  Who?  Smith.  This  whole 
business  is  Smith's  work." 

"And  where  is  Smith?  Have  you  seen  him,  Mandy  I 
We  have  not  thanked  him,"  said  Cameron. 

"He  is  gone,  I  think,"  said  Mandy.  "He  left  some 
time  ago.  We  shall  thank  him  later.  But  I  am  sure 
we  owe  a  great  deal  to  you,  Inspector  Dickson,  to  you, 
Mr.  Dent,  and  indeed  to  all  our  friends,"  she  added, 
as  she  bade  them  good-night. 

For  some  moments  they  lingered  in  the  moon- 
light. 

"To  think  that  this  is  Smith's  work!"  said  Cameron, 
waving  his  hand  toward  the  house.  "That  queer 
chap!  One  thing  I  have  learned,  never  to  judge  a 
man  by  his  legs  again. ' ' 

"He  is  a  fine  fellow,"  said  Mandy  indignantly,  "and 
with  a  fine  soul  in  spite  of " 

"His  wobbly  legs,"  said  her  husband  smiling. 

"It's  a  shame,  Allan.  What  difference  does  it  make 
what  kind  of  legs  a  man  has?" 

"Very  true,"  replied  her  husband  smiling,  "and  if 
you  knew  your  Bible  better,  Mandy,  you  would  have 


SMITH'S   WORK  173 

found  excellent  authority  for  your  position  in  the 
words  of  the  psalmist,  'The  Lord  taketh  no  pleasure 
in  the  legs  of  a  man.'  But,  say,  it  is  a  joke,"  he  added, 
"to  think  of  this  being  Smith's  work." 


174         THE   SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 
CHAPTER  XH 

IN    THE   SUN   DANCE    CANYON 

BUT  they  were  not  yet  done  with  Smith,  for  as 
they  turned  to  pass  into  the  house  a  series 
of  shrill  cries  from  the  bluff  behind  pierced  the 
stillness  of  the  night. 

"Help!  Help!  Murder!  Help!  I've  got  him! 
Help!  I Ve  got  him!" 

Shaking  off  the  clutching  hands  of  his  wife  and  sis- 
ter, Cameron  darted  into  the  bluff  and  found  two  fig- 
ures frantically  struggling  upon  the  ground.  The 
moonlight  trickling  through  the  branches  revealed  the 
man  on  top  to  be  an  Indian  with  a  knife  in  his  hand, 
but  he  was  held  in  such  close  embrace  that  he  could 
not  strike. 

"Hold  up!"  cried  Cameron,  seizing  the  Indian  by 
the  wrist.  ' '  Stop  that !  Let  him  go ! "  he  cried  to  the 
man  below.  "I've  got  him  safe  enough.  Let  him  go! 
Let  him  go,  I  tell  you !  Now,  then,  get  up !  Get  up, 
both  of  you!" 

The  under  man  released  his  grip,  allowed  the  Indian 
to  rise  and  got  himself  to  his  feet. 

"Come  out  into  the  light!"  said  Cameron  sharply, 
leading  the  Indian  out  of  the  bluff,  followed  by  the 
other,  still  panting.  Here  they  were  joined  by  the 
ladies.  "Now,  then,  what  the  deuce  is  all  this  row?" 
inquired  Cameron. 

"Why,  it's  Mr.  Smith!"  cried  Mandy. 

"Smith  again!  More  of  Smith's  work,  eh?  Well, 
this  beats  me,"  said  her  husband.  For  some  moments 
Cameron  stood  surveying  the  group,  the  Indian  silent 
and  immobile  as  one  of  the  poplar  trees  beside  him, 


IN   THE    SUN   DANCE    CANYON  175 

the  ladies  with  faces  white,  Smith  disheveled  in  garb, 
pale  and  panting  and  evidently  under  great  excite- 
ment. Cameron  burst  into  a  loud  laugh.  Smith's  pale 
face  flushed  a  swift  red,  visible  even  in  the  moonlight, 
then  grew  pale  again,  his  excited  panting  ceased  as 
he  became  quiet. 

"Now  what  is  the  row?"  asked  Cameron  again. 
"What  is  it,  Smith?" 

"I  found  this  Indian  in  the  bush  here  and  I  seized 
him.  I  thought — he  might — do  something." 

"Do  something?" 

"Yes — some  mischief — to  some  of  you." 

"What?  You  found  this  Indian  in  the  bluff  here 
and  you  just  jumped  on  him?  You  might  better  have 
jumped  on  a  wild  cat.  Are  you  used  to  this  sort  of 
thing?  Do  you  know  the  ways  of  these  people?" 

"I  never  saw  an  Indian  before." 

"Good  Heavens,  man!  He  might  have  killed  you. 
And  he  would  have  in  two  minutes  more." 

"He  might  have  killed — some  of  you,"  said  Smith. 

Cameron  laughed  again. 

"Now  what  were  you  doing  in  the  bluff?"  he  said 
sharply,  turning  to  the  Indian. 

'  *  Chief  Trotting  Wolf, ' '  said  the  Indian  in  the  low 
undertone  common  to  his  people,  "Chief  Trotting 
Wolf  want  you'  squaw — boy  seeck  bad — leg  beeg  beeg. 
Boy  go  die.  Come."  He  turned  to  Mandy  and  re- 
peated * l  Come — queeck — queeck. ' ' 

"Why  didn't  you  come  earlier?"  said  Cameron 
sharply.  "It  is  too  late  now.  We  are  going  to  sleep." 

"Me  come  dis."  He  lowered  his  hand  toward  the 
ground.  "Too  much  mans — no  like — Indian  wait  all 
go  'way — dis  man  much  beeg  fight — no  good.  Come 
queeck — boy  go  die." 


176         THE    SUN   DANCE    TEAIL 


Already  Mandy  had  made  up  her  mind. 

"Let  us  hurry,  Allan,"  she  said. 

"You  can't  go  to-night,"  he  replied.  "You  are 
dead  tired.  "Wait  till  morning. ' ' 

"No,  no,  we  must  go."  She  turned  into  the  house, 
followed  by  her  husband,  and  began  to  rummage  in 
her  bag.  "Lucky  thing  I  got  these  supplies  in  town," 
she  said,  hastily  putting  together  her  nurse's  equip- 
ment and  some  simple  remedies.  "I  wonder  if  that 
boy  has  fever.  Bring  that  Indian  in. ' ' 

"Have  you  had  the  doctor?"  she  inquired,  when  he 
appeared. 

"Huh!  Doctor  want  cut  off  leg — dis,"  his  action 
was  sufficiently  suggestive.  "Boy  say  no." 

"Has  the  boy  any  fever?  Does  he  talk-talk-talk?" 
The  Indian  nodded  his  head  vigorously. 

' '  Talk  much — all  day — all  night. ' ' 

"He  is  evidently  in  a  high  fever,"  said  Mandy  to 
her  husband.  "We  must  try  to  check  that.  Now,  my 
dear,  you  hurry  and  get  the  horses." 

"But  what  shall  we  do  with  Moira?"  said  Cam- 
eron suddenly. 

1  <  Why, ' '  cried  Moira, '  i  let  me  go  with  you.  I  should 
love  to  go." 

But  this  did  not  meet  with  Cameron's  approval. 

"I  can  stay  here,"  suggested  Smith  hesitatingly, 
"or  Miss  Cameron  can  go  over  with  me  to  the  Thatch- 
ers'." 

"That  is  better,"  said  Cameron  shortly.  "We  can 
drop  her  at  the  Thatchers'  as  we  pass." 

In  half  an  hour  Cameron  returned  with  the  horses 
and  the  party  proceeded  on  their  way. 

At  the  Piegan  Reserve  they  were  met  by  Chief  Trot- 


IN   THE   SUN   DANCE   CANYON  177 

ting  Wolf  himself  and,  without  more  than  a  single 
word  of  greeting,  were  led  to  the  tent  in  which  the 
sick  boy  lay.  Beside  him  sat  the  old  squaw  in  a  corner 
of  the  tent,  crooning  a  weird  song  as  she  swayed  to 
and  fro.  The  sick  boy  lay  on  a  couch  of  skins,  his  eyes 
shining  with  fever,  his  foot  festering  and  in  a  state 
of  indescribable  filth  and  his  whole  condition  one  of 
unspeakable  wretchedness.  Cameron  found  his  gorge 
rise  at  the  sight  of  the  gangrenous  ankle. 

"This  is  a  horrid  business,  Mandy,"  he  exclaimed. 
"This  is  not  for  you.  Let  us  send  for  the  doctor. 
That  foot  will  surely  have  to  come  off.  Don't  mess 
with  it.  Let  us  have  the  doctor. ' ' 

But  his  wife,  from  the  moment  of  her  first  sight  of 
the  wounded  foot,  forgot  all  but  her  mission  of  help. 

"We  must  have  a  clean  tent,  Allan,"  she  said,  "and 
plenty  of  hot  water.  Get  the  hot  water  first." 

Cameron  turned  to  the  Chief  and  said,  "Hot  water, 
quick ! ' ' 

"Huh — good,"  replied  the  Chief,  and  in  a  few  mo- 
ments returned  with  a  small  pail  of  luke-warm  water. 

"Oh,"  cried  Mandy,  "it  must  be  hot  and  we  must 
have  lots  of  it." 

"Hot,"  cried  Cameron  to  the  Chief.  "Big  pail — 
hot— hot." 

; '  Huh, ' '  grunted  the  Chief  a  second  time  with  grow- 
ing intelligence,  and  in  an  incredibly  short  space  re- 
turned with  water  sufficiently  hot  and  in  sufficient  quan- 
tity. 

All  unconscious  of  the  admiring  eyes  that  followed 
the  swift  and  skilled  movements  of  her  capable  hands, 
Mandy  worked  over  the  festering  and  fevered  wound 
till,  cleansed,  soothed,  wrapped  in  a  cooling  lotion,  the 
limb  rested  easily  upon  a  sling  of  birch  bark  and  skins 


178         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

suggested  and  prepared  by  the  Chief.  Then  for  the 
first  time  the  boy  made  a  sound. 

"Huh,"  he  grunted  feebly.  "Doctor — no  good 
Squaw — heap  good.  Me  two  foot — live — one  foot — ' 
he  held  up  one  finger — "die."  His  eyes  were  shining 
with  something  other  than  the  fever  that  drove  th< 
blood  racing  through  his  veins.  As  a  dog's  eyes  fol 
low  every  movement  of  his  master  so  the  lad's  eyes 
eloquent  with  adoring  gratitude,  followed  his  nurse  as 
she  moved  about  the  wigwam. 

"Now  we  must  get  that  clean  tent,  Allan." 

"All  right,"  said  her  husband.  "It  will  be  no  easj 
job,  but  we  shall  do  our  best.  Here,  Chief,"  he  cried 
"get  some  of  your  young  men  to  pitch  another  tent  ir 
a  clean  place." 

The  Chief,  eager  though  he  was  to  assist,  hesitated 

"No  young  men,"  he  said.  "Get  squaw,"  and  de- 
parted abruptly. 

"No  young  men,  eh?"  said  Cameron  to  his  wife 
"Where  are  they,  then?  I  notice  there  are  no  bucks 
around. ' ' 

And  so  while  the  squaws  were  pitching  a  tent  in  a 
spot  somewhat  removed  from  the  encampment,  Cam- 
eron poked  about  among  the  tents  and  wigwams  of 
which  the  Indian  encampment  consisted,  but  found 
for  the  most  part  only  squaws  and  children  and  old 
men.  He  came  back  to  his  wife  greatly  disturbed. 

"The  young  bucks  are  gone,  Mandy.  I  must  gel 
after  this  thing  quickly.  I  wish  I  had  Jerry  here. 
Let's  see?  You  ask  for  a  messenger  to  be  sent  to  the 
fort  for  the  doctor  and  medicine.  I  shall  enclose  a 
note  to  the  Inspector.  We  want  the  doctor  here  as  soon 
as  possible  and  we  want  Jerry  here  at  the  earliest 
possible  moment." 


IN    THE    SUN   DANCE    C  A  N  Y  0  N  179 

With  a  great  show  of  urgency  a  messenger  was 
requisitioned  and  dispatched,  carrying  a  note  from 
Cameron  to  the  Commissioner  requesting  the  presence 
of  the  doctor  with  his  medicine  bag,  but  also  request- 
ing that  Jerry,  the  redoubtable  half-breed  interpreter 
and  scout,  with  a  couple  of  constables,  should  accom- 
pany the  doctor,  the  constables,  however,  to  wait  out- 
side the  camp  until  summoned. 

During  the  hours  that  must  elapse  before  any  an- 
swer could  be  had  from  the  fort,  Cameron  prepared 
a  couch  in  a  corner  of  the  sick  boy's  tent  for  his 
wife,  and,  rolling  himself  in  his  blanket,  he  laid  himself 
down  at  the  door  outside  where,  wearied  with  the  long 
day  and  its  many  exciting  events,  he  slept  without  turn- 
ing, till  shortly  after  daybreak  he  was  awakened  by  a 
chorus  of  yelping  curs  which  heralded  the  arrival  of 
the  doctor  from  the  fort  with  the  interpreter  Jerry 
in  attendance. 

After  breakfast,  prepared  by  Jerry  with  dispatch 
and  skill,  the  product  of  long  experience,  there  was  a 
thorough  examination  of  the  sick  boy's  condition 
through  the  interpreter,  upon  the  conclusion  of  which 
a  long  consultation  followed  between  the  doctor,  Cam- 
eron and  Mandy.  It  was  finally  decided  that  the  doc- 
tor should  remain  with  Mandy  in  the  Indian  camp 
until  a.  change  should  become  apparent  in  the  condi- 
tion of  the  boy,  and  that  Cameron  with  the  interpreter 
should  pick  up  the  two  constables  and  follow  in  the 
trail  of  the  young  Piegan  braves.  In  order  to  allay 
suspicion  Cameron  and  his  companion  left  the  camp 
by  the  trail  which  led  toward  the  fort.  For  four  miles 
or  so  they  rode  smartly  until  the  trail  passed  into  a 
thick  timber  of  spruce  mixed  with  poplar.  Here  Cam- 


180         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

eron  paused,  and,  making  a  slight  sign  in  the  direction 
from  which  they  had  come,  he  said : 

"Drop  back,  Jerry,  and  see  if  any  Indian  is  follow- 
ing." 

"Good,"  grunted  Jerry.  "Go  slow  one  mile,"  and, 
slipping  from  his  pony,  he  handed  the  reins  to  Cameron 
and  faded  like  a  shadow  into  the  brushwood. 

For  a  mile  Cameron  rode,  pausing  now  and  then  to 
listen  for  the  sound  of  anyone  following,  then  drew 
rein  and  waited  for  his  companion.  After  a  few  min- 
utes of  eager  listening  he  suddenly  sat  back  in  his 
saddle  and  felt  for  his  pipe. 

"All  right,  Jerry,"  he  said  softly,  "come  out." 

Grinning  somewhat  shamefacedly  Jerry  parted  a 
bunch  of  spruce  boughs  and  stood  at  Cameron's  side. 

"Good  ears,"  he  said,  glancing  up  into  Cameron's 
face. 

"No,  Jerry,"  replied  Cameron,  "I  saw  the  blue- 
jay." 

"Huh,"  grunted  Jerry,  "dat  fool  bird  tell  every- 
t'ing." 

"Any  Indian  following?" 

Jerry  held  up  two  fingers. 

"Two  Indian  run  tree  mile  —  find  notting  —  go 
back." 

' '  Good !    Where  .are  our  men  ? ' ' 

"Down  Coulee  Swampy  Creek." 

"All  right,  Jerry.  Any  news  at  the  fort  last  two 
or  three  days?" 

"Beeg  meetin'  St.  Laurent.  Much  half-breed. 
Some  Indian  too.  Louis  Eiel  mak  beeg  spik — beeg 
noise — blood!  blood!  blood!  Much  beeg  fool." 
Jerry's  tone  indicated  the  completeness  of  his 
tempt  for  the  whole  proceedings  at  St.  Laurent. 


IN   THE   SUN   DANCE    CANYON  181 

"Something  doing,  eh,  Jerry?" 

"Bah!"  grunted  Jerry  contemptuously. 

"Well,  there's  something  doing  here,"  continued 
Cameron.  "Trotting  Wolf's  young  men  have  left  the 
reserve  and  Trotting  Wolf  is  very  anxious  that  we 
should  not  know  it.  I  want  you  to  go  back,  find  out 
what  direction  they  have  taken,  how  far  ahead  they 
are,  how  many.  We  camp  to-night  at  the  Big  Rock 
at  the  entrance  to  the  Sun  Dance  Canyon.  You  remem- 
ber!" 

Jerry  nodded. 

"There's  something  doing,  Jerry,  or  I  am  much  mis- 
taken. Got  any  grub?" 

' '  Grub  ? ' '  asked  Jerry.  '  *  Me — here — t  'ree  day, ' '  tap- 
ping his  rolled  blanket  at  the  back  of  his  saddle.  "Od- 
der fellers — grub — Jakes — free  men — free  day.  Come 
Beeg  Bock  to-night — mebbe  to-morrow."  So  saying, 
Jerry  climbed  on  to  his  pony  and  took  the  back  trail, 
while  Cameron  went  forward  to  meet  his  men  at  the 
Swampy  Creek  Coulee. 

Making  a  somewhat  wide  detour  to  avoid  the  ap- 
proaches to  the  Indian  encampment,  Cameron  and  his 
two  men  rode  for  the  Big  Kock  at  the  entrance  to  the 
Sun  Dance  Canyon.  They  gave  themselves  no  concern 
about  Trotting  Wolf's  band  of  young  men.  They  knew 
well  that  what  Jerry  could  not  discover  would  not  be 
worth  finding  out.  A  year's  close  association  with 
Jerry  had  taught  Cameron  something  of  the  marvelous 
powers  of  observation,  of  the  tenacity  and  courage 
possessed  by  the  little  half-breed  that  made  him  the 
keenest  scout  in  the  North  West  Mounted  Police. 

At  the  Big  Eock  they  arrived  late  in  the  afternoon 
and  there  waited  for  Jerry's  appearing;  but  night  had 


182         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

fallen  and  had  broken  into  morning  before  the  scout 
came  into  camp  with  a  single  word  of  report : 

"Hotting.'1 

"No  Piegans?"  exclaimed  Cameron. 

"No — not  dis  side  Blood  Reserve." 

"Eat  something,  Jerry,  then  we  will  talk,"  said 
Cameron. 

Jerry  had  already  broken  his  fast,  but  was  ready 
for  more.  After  the  meal  was  finished  he  made  his 
report.  His  report  was  clear  and  concise.  On  leaving 
Cameron  in  the  morning  he  had  taken  the  most  likely 
direction  to  discover  traces  of  the  Piegan  band,  namely 
that  suggested  by  Cameron,  and,  fetching  a  wide  cir- 
cle, had  ridden  toward  the  mountains,  but  he  had  come 
upon  no  sign.  Then  he  had  penetrated  into  the  canyon 
and  ridden  down  toward  the  entrance,  but  still*  had 
found  no  trace.  He  had  then  ridden  backward  toward 
the  Piegan  Reserve  and,  picking  up  a  trail  of  one  or 
two  ponies,  had  followed  it  till  he  found  it  broaden 
into  that  of  a  considerable  band  making  eastward. 
Then  he  knew  he  had  found  the  trail  he  wanted. 

"How  many.  Jerry?"  asked  Cameron. 

The  half-breed  held  up  both  hands  three  times. 

"Mebbe  more." 

"Thirty  or  forty?"  exclaimed  Cameron.  "Aay 
squaws  I ' ' 

"No." 

' '  Hunting-expedition  ? ' ' 

"No." 

"Where  were  they  going?" 

"Blood  Reserve  t'ink — dunno." 

Cameron  sat  smoking  in  silence.  He  was  completely 
at  a  loss. 


IN   THE   SUN   DANCE    CANYON  183 

"Why  go  to  the  Bloods?"  he  asked  of  Jerry. 

"Dunno." 

Jerry  was  not  strong  in  his  constructive  faculty. 
His  powers  were  those  of  observation. 

"There  is  no  sense  in  them  going  to  the  Blood  Ee- 
serve,  Jerry,"  said  Cameron  impatiently.  "The 
Bloods  are  a  pack  of  thieves,  we  know,  but  our  people 
are  keeping  a  close  watch  on  them. ' ' 

Jerry  grunted  acquiescence. 

"There  is  no  big  Indian  camping  ground  on  the 
Blood  Reserve.  You  wouldn't  get  the  Blackfeet  to 
go  to  any  pow-wow  there.". 

Again  Jerry  grunted. 

"How  far  did  you  follow  their  trail,  Jerry?" 

"Two— free  mile." 

Cameron  sat  long  and  smoked.  The  thing  was  ex- 
tremely puzzling.  It  seemed  unlikely  that  if  the  Pie- 
gan  band  were  going  to  a  rendezvous  of  Indians  they 
should  select  a  district  so  closely  under  the  inspection 
of  the  Police.  Furthermore  there  was  no  great  prestige 
attaching  to  the  Bloods  to  make  their  reserve  a  place 
of  meeting. 

"Jerry,"  said  Cameron  at  length,  "I  believe  they 
are  up  this  Sun  Dance  Canyon  somewhere." 

"No,"  said  Jerry  decisively.  "No  sign — come 
down  mesef."  His  tone  was  that  of  finality. 

"I  believe,  Jerry,  they  doubled  back  and  came  in 
from  the  north  end  after  you  had  left.  I  feel  sure  they 
are  up  there  now  and  we  will  go  and  find  them." 

Jerry  sat  silent,  smoking  thoughtfully.  Finally  he 
took  his  pipe  from  his  mouth,  pressed  the  tobacco 
hard  down  with  his  horny  middle  finger  and  stuck  it 
in  his  pocket. 

"Mebbe   so,"   he   said   slowly,   a   slight   grin   dis- 


184         THE   SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 

torting  his  wizened  little  face,  "mebbe  so,  but  t'ink 
not — me. ' ' 

"Well,  Jerry,  where  could  they  have  gone?  They 
might  ride  straight  to  Crowfoot 's  Eeserve,  but  I  think 
that  is  extremely  unlikely.  They  certainly  would  not 
go  to  the  Bloods,  therefore  they  must  be  up  this  can- 
yon. We  will  go  up,  Jerry,  for  ten  miles  or  so  and 
see  what  we  can  see." 

"Good,"  said  Jerry  with  a  grunt,  his  tone  convey- 
ing his  conviction  that  where  the  chief  scout  of  the 
North  West  Mounted  Police  had  said  it  was  useless 
to  search,  any  other  man  searching  would  have  noth- 
ing but  his  folly  for  his  pains. 

"Have  a  sleep  first,  Jerry.  We  need  not  start  for 
a  couple  of  hours." 

Jerry  grunted  his  usual  reply,  rolled  himself  in  his 
blanket  and,  lying  down  at  the  back  of  a  rock,  was 
asleep  in  a  minute's  time. 

In  two  hours  to  the  minute  he  stood  beside  his  pony 
waiting  for  Cameron,  who  had  been  explaining  his  plan 
to  the  two  constables  and  giving  them  his  final  orders. 

The  orders  were  very  brief  and  simple.  They  were 
to  wait  where  they  were  till  noon.  If  any  of  the  band 
of  Piegans  appeared  one  of  the  men  was  to  ride  up 
the  canyon  with  the  information,  the  other  was  to  fol- 
low the  band  till  they  camped  and  then  ride  back  till 
he  should  meet  his  comrades.  They  divided  up  the 
grub  into  two  parts  and  Cameron  and  the  interpreter 
took  their  way  up  the  canyon. 

The  canyon  consisted  of  a  deep  cleft  across  a  series 
of  ranges  of  hills  or  low  mountains.  Through  it  ran 
a  rough  breakneck  trail  once  used  by  the  Indians  and 
trappers  but  now  abandoned  since  the  building  of  the 
Canadian  Pacific  Railway  through  the  Kicking  Horse 


IN   THE   SUN   DANCE    CANYON  185 

Pass  and  the  opening  of  the  Government  trail  through 
the  Crow's  Nest.  From  this  which  had  once  been  the 
main  trail  other  trails  led  westward  into  the  Koote- 
nays  and  eastward  into  the  Foothill  country.  At  times 
the  canyon  widened  into  a  valley,  rich  in  grazing  and 
in  streams  of  water,  again  it  narrowed  into  a  gorge, 
deep  and  black,  with  rugged  sides  above  which  only  the 
blue  sky  was  visible,  and  from  which  led  cavernous  pas- 
sages that  wound  into  the  heart  of  the  mountains,  some 
of  them  large  enough  to  hold  a  hundred  men  or  more 
without  crowding.  These  caverns  had  been  and  still 
were  found  to  be  most  convenient  and  useful  for  the 
purpose  of  whisky-runners  and  of  cattle-rustlers,  af- 
fording safe  hiding-places  for  themselves  and  their 
spoil.  With  this  trail  and  all  its  ramifications  Jerry 
was  thoroughly  familiar.  The  only  other  man  in  the 
Force  who  knew  it  better  than  Jerry  was  Cameron 
himself.  For  many  months  he  had  patroled  the  main 
trail  and  all  its  cross  leaders,  lived  in  its  caves  and 
explored  its  caverns  in  pursuit  of  those  interesting 
gentlemen  whose  activities  more  than  anything  else 
had  rendered  necessary  the  existence  of  the  North 
West  Mounted  Police.  In  ancient  times  the  caves 
along  the  Sun  Dance  Trail  had  been  used  by  the  In- 
dian Medicine-Men  for  their  pagan  rites,  and  hence 
in  the  eyes  of  the  Indians  to  these  caves  attached 
a  dreadful  reverence  that  made  them  places  to  be 
avoided  in  recent  years  by  the  various  tribes  now 
gathered  on  the  reserves.  But  during  these  last 
months  of  unrest  it  was  suspected  by  the  Police  that 
the  ancient  uses  of  these  caves  had  been  revived  and 
that  the  rites  long  since  fallen  into  desuetude  were  once 
more  being  practised. 

For  the  first  few  miles  of  the  canyon  the  trail  of- 


186         THE    SUN   DANCE   TKAIL 

fered  good  footing  and  easy  going,  but  as  the  gorge 
deepened  and  narrowed  the  difficulties  increased  until 
riding  became  impossible,  and  only  by  the  most  stren- 
uous efforts  on  the  part  of  both  men  and  beasts  could 
any  advance  be  made.  And  so  through  the  day  and 
into  the  late  evening  they  toiled  on,  ever  alert  for  sight 
or  sound  of  the  Piegan  band.  At  length  Cameron 
broke  the  silence. 

''We  must  camp,  Jerry,"  he  said.  "We  are  making 
no  time  and  we  may  spoil  things.  I  know  a  good 
camp-ground  near  by." 

"Me  too,"  grunted  Jerry,  who  was  as  tired  as  his 
wiry  frame  ever  allowed  him  to  become. 

They  took  a  trail  leading  eastward,  which  to  all 
eyes  but  those  familiar  with  it  would  have  been  in- 
visible, for  a  hundred  yards  or  so  and  came  to  the 
bed  of  a  dry  stream  which  issued  from  between  two 
great  rocks.  Behind  one  of  these  rocks  there  opened 
out  a  grassy  plot  a  few  yards  square,  and  beyond  the 
grass  a  little  lifted  platform  of  rock  against  a  sheer 
cliff.  Here  they  camped,  picketing  their  horses  on 
the  grass  and  cooking  their  supper  upon  the  platform 
of  rock  over  a  tiny  fire  of  dry  twigs,  for  the  wind  was 
blowing  down  the  canyon  and  they  knew  that  they 
could  cook  their  meal  and  have  their  smoke  without 
fear  of  detection.  For  some  time  after  supper  they 
sat  smoking  in  that  absolute  silence  which  is  the  char- 
acteristic of  the  true  man  of  the  woods.  The  gentle 
breeze  blowing  down  the  canyon  brought  to  their  ears 
the  rustling  of  the  dry  poplar-leaves  and  the  faint 
murmur  of  the  stream  which,  tumbling  down  the  can- 
yon, accompanied  the  main  trail  a  hundred  yards 
away. 


IN   THE   SUN   DANCE   CANYON  187 

Suddenly  Cameron's  hand  fell  upon  the  knee  of  the 
half-breed  with  a  swift  grip. 

" Listen!"  he  said,  bending  forward. 

With  mouths  slightly  open  and  with  hands  to  their 
ears  they  both  sat  motionless,  breathless,  every  nerve 
on  strain.  Gradually  the  dead  silence  seemed  to  re- 
solve itself  into  rhythmic  waves  of  motion  rather  than 
of  sound — "  Tiwi-ta.-ta.-tum.  Tum-ta-ta-tum.  Tum- 
ta-ta-tum."  It  was  the  throb  of  the  Indian  medicine- 
drum,  which  once  heard  can  never  be  forgotten  or  mis- 
taken. Without  a  word  to  each  other  they  rose,  doused 
their  fire,  cached  their  saddles,  blankets  and  grub, 
and,  taking  only  their  revolvers,  set  off  up  the 
canyon.  Before  they  had  gone  many  yards  Cameron 
halted. 

"What  do  you  think,  Jerry?"  he  said.  "I  take  it 
they  have  come  in  the  back  way  over  the  old  Porcupine 
Trail." 

Jerry  grunted  approval  of  the  suggestion. 

"Then  we  can  go  in  from  the  canyon.  It  is  hard 
going,  but  there  is  less  fear  of  detection.  They  are 
sure  to  be  in  the  Big  Wigwam." 

Jerry  shook  his  head,  with  a  puzzled  look  on  his 
face. 

"Dunno  me." 

"That  is  where  they  are,"  said  Cameron.  "Come 
on!  Only  two  miles  from  here." 

Steadily  the  throb  of  the  medicine-drum  grew  more 
distinct  as  they  moved  slowly  up  the  canyon,  rising 
and  falling  upon  the  breeze  that  came  down  through 
the  darkness  to  meet  them.  The  trail,  which  was  bad 
enough  in  the  light,  became  exceedingly  dangerous 
and  difficult  in  the  blackness  of  the  night.  On  they 
struggled  painfully,  now  clinging  to  the  sides  of  the 


188         THE   SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 


gorge,  now  mounting  up  over  a  Mil  and  again  descend- 
ing to  the  level  of  the  foaming  stream. 

"Will  they  have  sentries  out,  I  wonder?"  whispered 
Cameron  in  Jerry's  ear. 

"No — beeg  medicine  going  on — no  sentry." 

"All  right,  then,  we  will  walk  straight  in  on  them." 

"What  you  do?"  inquired  Jerry. 
.  "We  will  see  what  they  are  doing  and  send  them 
about  their  business,"  said  Cameron  shortly. 

'  *  No, ' '  said  Jerry  firmly.  ' '  S  'pose  Indian  mak  beeg 
medicine — bes'  leave  him  go  till  morning." 

"Well,  Jerry,  we  will  take  a  look  at  them  at  any 
rate,"  said  Cameron.  "But  if  they  are  fooling  around 
with  any  rebellion  nonsense  I  am  going  to  step  in  and 
stop  it." 

' '  No, ' '  said  Jerry  again  very  gravely.  '  *  Beeg  medi- 
cine mak'  Indian  man  crazy — fool — dance — sing — mak' 
brave — then  keel — queeck ! ' ' 

"Come  along,  then,  Jerry,"  said  Cameron  impa- 
tiently. And  on  they  went.  The  throb  of  the  drum 
grew  clearer  until  it  seemed  that  the  next  turn  in 
the  trail  should  reveal  the  camp,  while  with  the  drum 
throb  they  began  to  catch,  at  first  faintly  and  then 
more  clearly,  the  monotonous  chant  "Hai-yai-kai-yai, 
Hai-yai-kai-yai, "  that  ever  accompanies  the  Indian 
dance.  Suddenly  the  drums  ceased  altogether  and 
with  it  the  chanting,  and  then  there  arose  upon  the 
night  silence  a  low  moaning  cry  that  gradually  rose 
into  a  long-drawn  penetrating  wail,  almost  a  scream, 
made  by  a  single  voice. 

Jerry's  hand  caught  Cameron's  arm  with  a  convul- 
sive grip. 

"What  the  deuce  is  that?"  asked  Cameron. 

"Sioux  Indian—he  mak'  dat  when  he  go  keel." 


IN   THE   SUN   DANCE    CANYON  189 

Once  more  the  long  weird  wailing  scream  pierced 
the  night  and,  echoing  down  the  canyon,  was  repeated 
a  hundred  times  by  the  black  rocky  sides.  Cameron 
could  feel  Jerry's  hand  still  quivering  on  his  arm. 

"What's  up  with  you,  Jerry!"  said  Cameron  im- 
patiently. 

"Me  hear  dat  when  A'm  small  boy — me." 

Then  Cameron  remembered  that  it  was  Sioux  blood 
that  colored  the  life-stream  in  Jerry's  veins. 

"Oh,  pshaw!"  said  Cameron  with  gruff  impatience. 
1 l  Come  on ! "  But  he  was  more  shaken  than  he  cared 
to  acknowledge  by  that  weird  unearthly  cry  and  by 
its  all  too  obvious  effect  upon  the  iron  nerves  of  that 
little  half-breed  at  his  side. 

"Dey  mak'  dat  cry  when  dey  go  meet  Custer  long 
'go,"  said  Jerry,  making  no  motion  to  go  forward. 

"What  are  you  waiting  for?"  said  Cameron  harsh- 
ly. "Come  along,  unless  you  want  to  go  back." 

His  words  stung  the  half-breed  into  action.  Cam- 
eron could  feel  him  in  the  dark  jerk  his  hand  away  and 
hear  him  grit  his  teeth. 

"Bah!  You  go  hell!"  he  muttered  between  his 
clenched  teeth. 

"That  is  better,"  said  Cameron  cheerfully.  "Now 
we  will  look  in  upon  these  fire-eaters." 

Sharp  to  the  right  they  turned  behind  a  cliff,  and 
then  back  almost  upon  their  trail,  still  to  the  right, 
through  a  screen  of  spruce  and  poplar,  and  found 
themselves  in  a  hole  of  a  rock  that  lengthened  into  a 
tunnel  blacker  than  the  night  outside.  Pursuing  this 
tunnel  some  little  distance  they  became  aware  of  a 
light  that  grew  as  they  moved  toward  it  into  a  fire  set 
in  the  middle  of  a  wide  cavern.  The  cavern  was  of 
irregular  shape,  with  high-vaulted  roof,  open  to  the 


190         THE   SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 

sky  at  the  apex  and  hung  with  glistening  stalactites. 
The  floor  of  this  cavern  lay  slightly  below  them,  and 
from  their  position  they  could  command  a  full  view 
of  its  interior. 

The  sides  of  the  cavern  round  about  were  crowded 
with  tawny  faces  of  Indians  arranged  rank  upon  rank, 
tlie  first  row  seated  upon  the  ground,  those  behind 
crouching  upon  .their  haunches,  those  still  farther  back 
standing.  In  the  center  of  the  cavern  and  with  his  face 
lit  by  the  fire  stood  the  Sioux  Chief,  Onawata. 

"Copperhead!    By  all  that's  holy!"  cried  Cameron. 

"Onawata!"  exclaimed  the  half-breed.  "What  he 
mak'here?" 

"What  is  he  saying,  Jerry?  Tell  me  everything — 
quick!"  commanded  Cameron  sharply. 

Jerry  was  listening  with  eager  face. 

"He  mak'  beeg  spik,"  he  said. 

"Go  on!" 

"He  say  Indian  long  tarn'  'go  have  all  country  when 
his  f  adder  small  boy.  Dem  day  good  hunting — plenty 
beaver,  mink,  moose,  buffalo  like  leaf  on  tree,  plenty 
hit  (eat),  warm  wigwam,  Indian  no  seeck,  notting 
wrong.  Dem  day  Indian  lak'  deer  go  every  place.  Dem 
day  Indian  man  lak'  bear  'fraid  notting.  Good  tarn', 
happy,  hunt  deer,  keel  buffalo,  hit  all  day.  Ah-h-h! 
ah-h-h ! ' '  The  half-breed 's  voice  faded  in  two  long  gasps. 

The  Sioux's  chanting  voice  rose  and  fell  through 
the  vaulted  cavern  like  a  mighty  instrument  of  music. 
His  audience  of  crowding  Indians  gazed  in  solemn 
rapt  awe  upon  him.  A  spell  held  them  fixed.  The 
whole  circle  swayed  in  unison  with  his  swaying  form 
as  he  chanted  the  departed  glories  of  those  happy  days 
when  the  red  man  roamed  free  those  plains  and  woods, 
lord  of  his  destiny  and  subject  only  to  his  own  will. 


IN   THE   SUN   DANCE   CANYON  191 

The  mystic  magic  power  of  that  rich  resonant  voice, 
its  rhythmic  cadence  emphasized  by  the  soft  throbbing 
of  the  drum,  the  uplifted  face  glowing  as  with  pro- 
phetic fire,  the  tall  swaying  form  instinct  with  exalted 
emotion,  swept  the  souls  of  his  hearers  with  surging 
tides  of  passion.  Cameron,  though  he  caught  but 
little  of  its  meaning,  felt  himself  irresistibly  borne 
along  upon  the  torrent  of  the  flowing  words.  He 
glanced  at  Jerry  beside  him  and  was  startled  by  the 
intense  emotion  showing  upon  his  little  wizened  face. 
Suddenly  there  was  a  swift  change  of  motif,  and 
with  it  a  change  of  tone  and  movement  and  color.  The 
marching,  vibrant,  triumphant  chant  of  freedom  and 
of  conquest  subsided  again  into  the  long-drawn  wail 
of  defeat,  gloom  and  despair.  Cameron  needed  no 
interpreter.  He  knew  the  singer  was  telling  the  pa- 
thetic story  of  the  passing  of  the  day  of  the  Indian's 
glory  and  the  advent  of  the  day  of  his  humiliation. 
With  sharp  rising  inflections,  with  staccato  phrasing 
and  with  fierce  passionate  intonation,  the  Sioux  wrung 
the  hearts  of  his  hearers.  Again  Cameron  glanced  at 
the  half-breed  at  his  side  and  again  he  was  startled 
to  note  the  transformation  in  his  face.  Where  there 
had  been  glowing  pride  there  was  now  bitter  savage 
hate.  For  that  hour  at  least  the  half-breed  was  all 
Sioux.  His  father's  blood  was  the  water  in  his  veins, 
the  red  was  only  his  Indian  mother's.  With  face 
drawn  tense  and  lips  bared  into  a  snarl,  with  eyes 
gleaming,  he  gazed  fascinated  upon  the  face  of  the 
singer.  In  imagination,  in  instinct,  in  the  deepest 
emotions  of  his  soul  Jerry  was  harking  back  again 
to  the  savage  in  him,  and  the  savage  in  him  thirsting 
for  revenge  upon  the  white  man  who  had  wrought  this 
ruin  upon  him  and  his  Indian  race.  With  a  fine  dra- 


192         THE   SUN  DANCE   TRAIL 

matic  instinct  the  Sioux  reached  his  climax  and 
abruptly  ceased.  A  low  moaning  murmur  ran  round 
the  circle  and  swelled  into  a  sobbing  cry,  then  ceased 
as  suddenly  as  there  stepped  into  the  circle  a  stranger, 
evidently  a  half-breed,  who  began  to  speak.  He  was 
a  French  Cree,  he  announced,  and  delivered  his  mes- 
sage in  the  speech,  half  Cree,  half  French,  affected  by 
his  race. 

He  had  come  fresh  from  the  North  country,  from 
the  disturbed  district,  and  bore,  as  it  appeared,  news 
of  the  very  first  importance  from  those  who  were  the 
leaders  of  his  people  in  the  unrest.  At  his  very  first 
word  Jerry  drew  a  long  deep  breath  and  by  his  face 
appeared  to  drop  from  heaven  to  earth.  As  the  half- 
breed  proceeded  with  his  tale  his  speech  increased  in 
rapidity. 

"What  is  he  saying,  Jerry ?"  said  Cameron  after 
they  had  listened  for  some  minutes. 

"Oh  he  beeg  damfool!"  said  Jerry,  whose  vocabu- 
lary had  been  learned  mostly  by  association  with 
freighters  and  the  Police.  "He  tell  'bout  beeg  meet- 
ing, beeg  man  Louis  Eiel  mak'  beeg  noise.  Bah !  Beeg 
damfool!"  The  whole  scene  had  lost  for  Jerry  its 
mystic  impressiveness  and  had  become  contemptibly 
commonplace.  But  not  so  to  Cameron.  This  was  the 
part  that  held  meaning  for  him.  So  he  pulled  up  the 
half-breed  with  a  quick,  sharp  command. 

"Listen  close,"  he  said,  "and  let  me  know  what  he 
says. ' ' 

And  as  Jerry  interpreted  in  his  broken  English  the 
half-breed's  speech  it  appeared  that  there  was  some- 
thing worth  learning.  At  this  big  meeting  held 
in  Batoche  it  seemed  a  petition  of  rights,  to  the  Do- 
minion Parliament  no  less,  had  been  drawn  up,  and 


IN   THE   SUN   DANCE   CANYON  193 

besides  this  many  plans  had  been  formed  and  many 
promises  made  of  reward  for  all  those  who  dared  to 
stand  for  their  rights  under  the  leadership  of  .the  great 
Eiel,  while  for  the  Indians  very  special  arrangements 
had  been  made  and  the  most  alluring  prospects  held 
out.  For  they  were  assured  that,  when  in  the  far 
North  country  the  new  Government  was  set  up,  the  old 
free  independent  life  of  which  they  had  been  hearing 
was  to  be  restored,  all  hampering  restrictions  im- 
posed by  the  white  man  were  to  be  removed,  and  the 
good  old  days  were  to  be  brought  back.  The  effect 
upon  the  Indians  was  plainly  evident.  With  solemn 
faees  they  listened,  nodding  now  and  then  grave  ap- 
proval, and  Cameron  felt  that  the  whole  situation  held 
possibilities  of  horror  unspeakable  in  the  revival  of 
that  ancient  savage  spirit  which  had  been  so  very  ma- 
terially softened  and  tamed  by  years  of  kindly,  patient 
and  firm  control  on  the  part  of  those  who  represented 
among  them  British  law  and  civilization.  His  original 
intention  had  been  to  stride  in  among  these  Indians, 
to  put  a  stop  to  their  savage  nonsense  and  order  them 
back  to  their  reserves  with  never  a  thought  of  anything 
but  obedience  on  their  part.  But  as  he  glanced  about 
upon  the  circle  of  faces  he  hesitated.  This  was  no 
petty  outbreak  of  ill  temper  on  the  part  of  a  number 
of  Indians  dissatisfied  with  their  rations  or  chafing 
under  some  new  Police  regulation  As  his  eye  traveled 
round  the  circle  he  noted  that  for  the  most  part  they 
were  young  men.  A  few  of  the  councilors  of  the  vari- 
ous tribes  represented  were  present.  Many  of  them 
he  knew,  but  many  others  he  could  not  distinguish 
in  the  dim  light  of  the  fire. 

"Who  are  those  Indians,  Jerry?"  he  asked. 

And  as  Jerry  ran  over  the  names  he  began  to  realize 


194         THE    SUN   DANCE    TEAIL 

how  widely  representative  of  the  various  tribes  in 
the  western  country  the  gathering  was.  Practically 
every  reserve  in  the  West  was  represented:  Bloods, 
Piegans  and  Blackfeet  from  the  foothill  country, 
Plain  Crees  and  Wood  Crees  from  the  North.  Even 
a  few  of  the  Stonies,  who  were  supposed  to  have 
done  with  all  pagan  rites  and  to  have  become  largely 
civilized,  were  present.  Nor  were  these  rank  and  file 
men  only.  They  were  the  picked  braves  of  the  tribes, 
and  with  them  a  large  number  of  the  younger  chiefs. 

At  length  the  half-breed  Cree  finished  his  tale,  and 
in  a  few  brief  fierce  sentences  he  called  the  Indians  of 
the  West  to  join  their  half-breed  and  Indian  brothers 
of  the  North  in  one  great  effort  to  regain  their  lost 
rights  and  to  establish  themselves  for  all  time  in  inde- 
pendence and  freedom. 

Then  followed  grave  discussion  carried  on  with  de- 
liberation and  courtesy  by  those  sitting  about  the  fire, 
and  though  gravity  and  courtesy  marked  every  utter- 
ance there  thrilled  through  every  speech  an  ever  deep- 
ening intensity  of  feeling.  The  fiery  spirit  of  the  red 
man,  long  subdued  by  those  powers  that  represented 
the  civilization  of  the  white  man,  was  burning  fiercely 
within  them.  The  insatiable  lust  for  glory  formerly 
won  in  war  or  in  the  chase,  but  now  no  longer  possible 
to  them,  burned  in  their  hearts  like  a  consuming  fire. 
The  life  of  monotonous  struggle  for  a  mere  existence 
to  which  they  were  condemned  had  from  the  first  been 
intolerable  to  them.  The  prowess  of  their  fathers, 
whether  in  the  slaughter  of  foes  or  in  the  excitement 
of  the  chase,  was  the  theme  of  song  and  story  round 
every  Indian  camp-fire  and  at  every  sun  dance.  FOT 
the  young  braves,  life,  once  vivid  with  color  and  thrill- 
ing with  tingling  emotions,  had  faded  into  the  somber- 


IN   THE    SUN   DANCE    CANYON  195 

hued  monotony  of  a  dull  and  spiritless  existence,  eked 
out  by  the  charity  of  the  race  who  had  robbed  them 
of  their  hunting-grounds  and  deprived  them  of  their 
rights  as  free  men.  The  lust  for  revenge,  the  fury  of 
hate,  the  yearning  for  the  return  of  the  days  of  the 
red  man's  independence  raged  through  their  speeches 
like  fire  in  an  open  forest;  and,  ever  fanning  yet  ever 
controlling  the  flame,  old  Copperhead  presided  till  the 
moment  should  be  ripe  for  such  action  as  he  desired. 
Back  and  forward  the  question  was  deliberated. 
Should  they  there  and  then  pledge  themselves  to  their 
Northern  brothers  and  commit  themselves  to  this  great 
approaching  adventure? 

Quietly  and  with  an  air  of  judicial  deliberation  the 
Sioux  put  the  question  to  them.  There  was  something 
to  be  lost  and  something  to  be  gained.  But  the  loss, 
how  insignificant  it  seemed!  And  the  gain,  how  im- 
measurable !  And  after  all  success  was  almost  certain. 
What  could  prevent  it  ?  A  few  scattered  settlers  with 
no  arms  nor  ammunition,  with  no  means  of  communi- 
cation, what  could  they  effect?  A  Government  nearly 
three  thousand  miles  away,  with  the  nearest  base  of 
military  operations  a  thousand  miles  distant,  what 
could  they  do?  The  only  real  difficulty  was  the  North 
West  Mounted  Police.  But  even  as  the  Sioux  uttered 
the  words  a  chill  silence  fell  upon  the  excited  throng. 
The  North  West  Mounted  Police,  who  for  a  dozen 
years  had  guarded  them  and  cared  for  them  and  ruled 
them  without  favor  and  without  fear!  Five  hundred 
red  coats  of  the  Great  WThite  Mother  across  the  sea, 
men  who  had  never  been  known  to  turn  their  backs 
upon  a  foe,  who  laughed  at  noisy  threats  and  whose 
simple  word  their  greatest  chief  was  accustomed  un- 
hesitatingly to  obey!  Small  wonder  that  the  mere 


196         THE   SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 

mention  of  the  name  of  those  gallant  "  Eiders  of  the 
Plains"  should  fall  like  a  chill  upon  their  fevered 
imaginations.  The  Sioux  was  conscious  of  that  chill 
and  set  himself  to  counteract  it. 

"The  Police!"  he  cried  with  unspeakable  scorn, 
' '  the  Police !  They  will  flee  before  the  Indian  braves 
like  leaves  before  the  autumn  wind." 

"What  says  he?"  cried  Cameron  eagerly.  And 
Jerry  swiftly  interpreted. 

Without  a  moment's  hesitation  Cameron  sprang  to 
his  feet  and,  standing  in  the  dim  light  at  the  entrance 
to  the  cave,  with  arm  outstretched  and  finger  pointed 
at  the  speaker,  he  cried: 

"Listen!"  With  a  sudden  start  every  face  was 
turned  in  his  direction.  ' '  Listen ! "  he  repeated.  ' '  The 
Sioux  dog  lies.  He  speaks  with  double  tongue.  Never 
have  the  Indians  seen  a  Policeman's  back  turned  in 
flight." 

His  unexpected  appearance,  his  voice  ringing  like 
the  blare  of  a  trumpet  through  the  cavern,  his  tall 
figure  with  the  outstretched  accusing  arm  and  finger, 
the  sharp  challenge  of  the  Sioux's  lie  with  what  they 
all  knew  to  be  the  truth,  produced  an  effect  utterly 
indescribable.  For  some  brief  seconds  they  gazed 
upon  him  stricken  into  silence  as  with  a  physical  blow, 
then  with  a  fierce  exclamation  the  Sioux  snatched  a 
rifle  from  the  cave  side  and  quicker  than  words  can 
tell  fired  straight  at  the  upright  accusing  figure.  But 
quicker  yet  was  Jerry's  panther-spring.  With  a  back- 
hand he  knocked  Cameron  flat,  out  of  range.  Cam- 
eron dropped  to  the  floor  as  if  dead. 

"What  the  deuce  do  you  meau,  Jerry?"  he  cried 
*  *  You  nearly  knocked  the  wind  out  of  me ! ' ' 


IN   THE    SUN   DANCE    CANYON  197 


"Beeg  fool  you!"  grunted  Jerry  fiercely,  dragging 
him  back  into  the  tunnel  out  of  the  light. 

"Let  me  go,  Jerry!"  cried  Cameron  in  a  rage,  strug- 
gling to  free  himself  from  the  grip  of  the  wiry  half- 
breed. 

"Mak'  still!"  hissed  Jerry,  laying  his  hand  over 
Cameron's  mouth.  "Indian  mad — crazy — tak'  scalp 
sure  queeck." 

"Let  me  go,  Jerry,  you  little  fool!"  said  Cameron. 
"I'll  kill  you  if  you  don't!  I  want  that  Sioux,  and, 
by  the  eternal  God,  I  am  going  to  have  him!"  He 
shook  himself  free  of  the  half-breed's  grasp  and 
sprang  to  his  feet.  "I  am  going  to  get  him!"  he  re- 
peated. 

"No!"  cried  Jerry  again,  flinging  himself  upon  him 
and  winding  his  arms  about  him.  "Wait!  Nodder 
tarn'.  Indian  mad  crazy — keel  quick — no  talk — now." 

Up  and  down  the  tunnel  Cameron  dragged  him  about 
as  a  mastiff  might  a  terrier,  striving  to  free  himself 
from  those  gripping  arms.  Even  as  Jerry  spoke, 
through  the  dim  light  the  figure  of  an  Indian  could 
be  seen  passing  and  repassing  the  entrance  to  the 
cave. 

"We  get  him  soon,"  said  Jerry  in  an  imploring 
whisper.  "Come  back  now — queeck — beeg  hole  close 
by." 

With  a  great  effort  Cameron  regained  his  self-con- 
trol. 

"By  Jove,  you  are  right,  Jerry,"  he  said  quietly. 
"We  certainly  can't  take  him  now.  But  we  must  not 
lose  him.  NOWT  listen  to  me  quick.  This  passage  opens 
on  to  the  canyon  about  fifty  yards  farther  down.  Fol- 
low, and  keep  your  eye  on  the  Sioux.  I  shall  watch 
here.  Go  I" 


198         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

"Without  an  instant's  hesitation  Jerry  obeyed,  well 
aware  that  his  master  had  come  to  himself  and  again 
was  in  command. 

Cameron  meantime  groped  to  the  mouth  of  the  tun- 
nel by  which  he  had  entered  and  peered  out  into  the 
dim  light.  Close  to  his  hand  stood  an  Indian  in  the 
cavern.  Beyond  him  there  was  a  confused  mingling 
of  forms  as  if  in  bewilderment.  The  Council  was  evi- 
dently broken  up  for  the  time.  The  Indians  were 
greatly  shaken  by  the  vision  that  had  broken  in  upon 
them.  That  it  was  no  form  of  flesh  and  blood  was 
very  obvious  to  them,  for  the  Sioux's  bullet  had  passed 
through  it  and  spattered  against  the  wall  leaving  no 
trail  of  blooa  behind  it.  There  was  no  holding  them 
together,  and  almost  before  he  was  aware  of  it  Cam- 
eron saw  the  cavern  empty  of  every  living  soul. 
Quickly  but  warily  he  followed,  searching  each  nook 
as  he  went,  but  the  dim  light  of  the  dying  fire  showed 
him  nothing  but  the  black  walls  and  gloomy  recesses 
of  the  great  cave.  At  the  farther  entrance  he  found 
Jerry  awaiting  him. 

"Where  are  they  gone?"  he  asked. 

"Beeg  camp  close  by,"  replied  Jerry.  "Beeg  camp 
— much  Indian.  Some  talk-talk,  then  go  sleep.  Chief 
Onawata  he  mak'  more  talk — talk  all  night — then  go 
sleep.  We  get  him  morning. ' ' 

Cameron  thought  swiftly. 

"I  think  you  are  right,  Jerry.  Now  you  get  back 
quick  for  the  men  and  come  to  me  here  in  the  morn- 
ing. We  must  not  spoil  the  chance  of  capturing  this 
old  devil.  He  will  have  these  Indians  worked  up  into 
rebellion  before  we  know  where  we  are." 

So  saying,  Cameron  set  forward  that  he  might  with 
his  own  eyes  look  upon  the  camp  and  might  the  better 


IN   THE    SUN   DANCE    CAN  YON  199 


plan  his  further  course.  Upon  two  things  he  was  firmly 
resolved.  First,  that  he  should  break  up  this  council 
which  held  such  possibilities  of  danger  to  the  peace 
of  the  country.  And  secondly,  and  chiefly,  he  must 
lay  hold  of  this  Sioux  plotter,  not  only  because  of  the 
possibilities  of  mischief  that  lay  in  him,  but  because 
of  the  injury  he  had  done  him  and  his. 

Forward,  then,  he  went  and  soon  came  upon  the 
camp,  and  after  observing  the  lay  of  it,  noting  espe- 
cially the  tent  in  which  the  Sioux  Chief  had  disposed 
himself,  he  groped  back  to  his  cave,  in  a  nook  of  which 
—for  he  was  nearly  done  out  with  weariness,  and  be- 
cause much  yet  lay  before  him — he  laid  himself  down 
and  slept  soundly  till  the  morning. 


200         THE   SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 
CHAPTER   XIII 

IN  THE  BIG  WIGWAM 

LONG  before  the  return  of  the  half-breed  and  his 
men  Cameron  was  astir  and  to  some  purpose. 
A  scouting  expedition  around  the  Indian  camp 
rewarded  him  with  a  significant  and  useful  discovery. 
In  a  bluff  some  distance  away  he  found  the  skins  and 
heads  of  four  steers,  and  by  examination  of  the  brands 
upon  the  skins  discovered  two  of  them  to  be  from  his 
own  herd. 

"All  right,  my  braves,"  he  muttered.  "There  will 
be  a  reckoning  for  this  some  day  not  so  far  away. 
Meantime  this  will  help  this  day's  work." 

A  night's  sleep  and  an  hour's  quiet  consideration 
had  shown  him  the  folly  of  a  straight  frontal  attack 
upon  the  Indians  gathered  for  consipracy.  They  were 
too  deeply  stirred  for  anything  like  the  usual  brusque 
manner  of  the  Police  to  be  effective.  A  slight  indis- 
cretion, indeed,  might  kindle  such  a  conflagration  as 
would  sweep  the  whole  country  with  the  devastating 
horror  of  an  Indian  war.  He  recalled  the  very  grave 
manner  of  Inspector  Dickson  and  resolved  upon  an 
entirely  new  plan  of  action.  At  all  costs  he  must  allay 
suspicion  that  the  Police  were  at  all  anxious  about  the 
situation  in  the  North.  Further,  he  must  break  the 
influence  of  the  Sioux  Chief  over  these  Indians.  Last- 
ly, he  was  determined  that  this  arch-plotter  should  not 
escape  him  again. 

The  sun  was  just  visible  over  the  lowest  of  the  broken 
foothills  when  Jerry  and  the  two  constables  made  their 
appearance,  bringing  with  them  Cameron's  horse. 
After  explaining  to  them  fully  his  plan  and  emphasiz- 


IN   THE   BIG  WIGWAM  201 

ing  the  gravity  of  the  situation  and  the  importance  of 
a  quiet,  cool  and  resolute  demeanor,  they  set  off  to- 
ward the  Indian  encampment. 

"I  have  no  intention  of  stirring  these  chaps  up," 
said  Cameron,  "but  I  am  determined  to  arrest  old 
Copperhead,  and  at  the  right  moment  we  must  act 
boldly  and  promptly.  He  is  too  dangerous  and  much 
too  clever  to  be  allowed  his  freedom  among  these  In- 
dians of  ours  at  this  particular  time.  Now,  then,  Jerry 
and  I  will  ride  in  looking  for  cattle  and  prepared  to 
charge  these  Indians  with  cattle-stealing.  This  will 
put  them  on  the  defensive.  Then  the  arrest  will  fol- 
low. You  two  will  remain  within  sound  of  whistle, 
but  failing  specific  direction  let  each  man  act  on  his 
own  initiative." 

Jerry  listened  with  delight.  His  Chief  was  himself 
again.  Before  the  day  was  over  he  was  to  see  him  in 
an  entirely  new  role.  Nothing  in  life  afforded  Jerry 
such  keen  delight  as  a  bit  of  cool  daring  successfully 
carried  through.  Hence  with  joyous  heart  he  followed 
Cameron  into  the  Indian  camp. 

The  morning  hour  is  the  hour  of  coolest  reason. 
The  fires  of  emotion  and  imagination  have  not  yet 
begun  to  burn.  The  reactions  from  anything  like  rash 
action  previously  committed  under  the  stimulus  of  a 
heated  imagination  are  caution  and  timidity,  and  upon 
these  reactions  Cameron  counted  when  he  rode  boldly 
into  the  Indian  camp. 

With  one  swift  glance  his  eye  swept  the  camp  and 
lighted  upon  the  Sioux  Chief  in  the  center  of  a  group 
of  younger  men,  his  tall  commanding  figure  and 
haughty  carriage  giving  him  an  outstanding  distinc- 
tion over  those  about  him.  At  his  side  stood  a  young 
Piegan  Chief,  Eagle  Feather  by  name,  whom  Cameron 


THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 


knew  of  old  as  a  restless,  talkative  Indian,  an  am- 
bitious aspirant  for  leadership  without  the  qualities 
necessary  to  such  a  position.  Straight  to  this  group 
Cameron  rode. 

' '  Good  morning ! "  he  said,  saluting  the  group.  ' '  Ah, 
good  morning,  Eagle  Feather!" 

Eagle  Feather  grunted  an  indistinct  reply. 

"Big  Hunt,  eh?  Are  you  in  command  of  this  party, 
Eagle  Feather?  No?  .Who  then  is?" 

The  Piegan  turned  and  pointed  to  a  short  thick  set 
man  standing  by  another  fire,  whose  large  well  shaped 
head  and  penetrating  eye  indicated  both  force  and  dis- 
cretion. 

"Ah,  Running  Stream,"  cried  Cameron.  "Come 
over  here,  Running  Stream.  I  am  glad  to  see  you, 
for  I  wish  to  talk  to  a  man  of  wisdom. ' ' 

Slowly  and  with  dignified,  almost  unwilling  step 
Running  Stream  approached.  As  he  began  to  move, 
but  not  before,  Cameron  went  to  meet  him. 

"I  wish  to  talk  with  you,"  said  Cameron  in  a  quiet 
firm  tone. 

"Huh,"  grunted  Running  Stream. 

"I  have  a  matter  of  importance  to  speak  to  you 
about,"  continued  Cameron. 

Running  Stream's  keen  glance  searched  his  face 
somewhat  anxiously. 

* '  I  find,  Running  Stream,  that  your  young  men  are 
breaking  faith  with  their  friends,  the  Police." 

Again  the  Chief  searched  Cameron's  face  with  that 
keen  swift  glance,  but  he  said  not  a  word,  only  waited. 

"They  are  breaking  the  law  as  well,  and  I  want  to 
tell  you  they  will  be  punished.  Where  did  they  get  the 
meat  for  these  kettles?" 


IN   THE   BIG   WIGWAM  203 

A  look  of  relief  gleamed  for  one  brief  instant  across 
the  Indian's  face,  not  unnoticed,  however,  by  Cam- 
eron. 

"Why  do  your  young  men  steal  my  cattle?" 

The  Indian  evinced  indifference. 

1 '  Dunno — deer — mebbe — sheep. ' ' 

"My  brother  speaks  like  a  child,"  said  Cameron 
quietly.  "Do  deer  and  sheep  have  steers'  heads  and 
hides  with  brands  on?  Four  heads  I  find  in  the  bluff. 
The  Commissioner  will  ask  you  to  explain  these  hides 
and  heads,  and  let  me  tell  you,  Running  Stream,  that 
the  thieves  will  spend  some  months  in  jail.  They  will 
then  have  plenty  of  time  to  think  of  their  folly  and 
their  wickedness." 

An  ugly  glance  shot  from  the  Chief's  eyes. 

"Dunno,"  he  grunted  again,  then  began  speaking 
volubly  in  the  Indian  tongue. 

"Speak  English,  Running  Stream!"  commanded 
Cameron.  "I  know  you  can  speak  English  well 
enough." 

But  Running  Stream  shook  his  head  and  continued 
his  speech  in  Indian,  pointing  to  a  bluff  near  by. 

Cameron  looked  toward  Jerry,  who  interpreted: 

"He  say  young  men  tak'  deer  and  sheep  and  bear. 
He  show  you  skins  in  bluff. ' ' 

"Come,"  said  Running  Stream,  supplementing 
Jerry's  interpretation  and  making  toward  the  bluff. 
Cameron  followed  him  and  came  upon  the  skins  of 
three  jumping  deer,  of  two  mountain  sheep  and  of 
two  bear.  They  turned  back  again  to  the  fire. 

"My  young  men  no  take  cattle,"  said  the  Chief  with 
haughty  pride. 

"Maybe  so,"  said  Cameron,  "but  some  of  your 
party  have,  Running  Stream,  and  the  Commissioner 


204         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

will  look  to  you.  You  are  in  command  here.  He  will 
give  you  a  chance  to  clear  yourself." 

The  Indian  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  stood  silent. 

"My  brother  is  not  doing  well,"  continued  Cameron. 
"The  Government  feed  you  if  you  are  hungry.  The 
Government  protect  you  if  you  are  wronged. ' ' 

It  was  an  unfortunate  word  of  Cameron 's.  A  sudden 
cloud  of  anger  darkened  the  Indian's  face. 

"No!"  he  cried  aloud.  "My  children — my  squaw 
and  my  people  go  hungry — go  cold  in  winter — no  skin 
— no  meat." 

"My  brother  knows — "  replied  Cameron  with  pa- 
tient firmness "You  translate  this,  Jerry" — and 

Jerry  proceeded  to  translate  with  eloquence  and  force 
— "the  Government  never  refuse  you  meat.  Last  win- 
ter your  people  would  have  starved  but  for  the  Gov- 
ernment." 

"No,"  cried  the  Indian  again  in  harsh  quick  reply, 
the  rage  in  his  face  growing  deeper,  "my  children  cry 
— Indian  cannot  sleep — my  white  brother's  ears  are 
closed.  He  hear  only  the  wind — the  storm — he  sound 
sleep.  For  me  no  sleep — my  children  cry  too  loud. ' ' 

"My  brother  knows,"  replied  Cameron,  "that  the 
Government  is  far  away,  that  it  takes  a  long  time  for 
answer  to  come  back  to  the  Indian  cry.  But  the  an- 
swer came  and  the  Indian  received  flour  and  bacon  and 
tea  and  sugar,  and  this  winter  will  receive  them  again. 
But  how  can  my  brother  expect  the  Government  to 
care  for  his  people  if  the  Indians  break  the  law?  That 
is  not  good.  These  Indians  are  bad  Indians  and  the 
Police  will  punish  the  thieves.  A  thief  is  a  bad  man 
and  ought  to  be  punished." 

Suddenly  a  new  voice  broke  in  abruptly  upon  the 
discourse. 


IN   THE   BIG  WIGWAM  205 

"Who  steal  the  Indian's  hunting-ground?  Who 
drive  away  the  buffalo!"  The  voice  rang  with  sharp 
defiance.  It  was  the  voice  of  Onawata,  the  Sioux 
Chief. 

Cameron  paid  no  heed  to  the  ringing  voice.  He 
kept  his  back  turned  upon  the  Sioux. 

"My  brother  knows,"  he  continued,  addressing  him- 
self to  Running  Stream,  "that  the  Indian's  best  friend 
is  the  Government,  and  the  Police  are  the  Govern- 
ment's ears  and  eyes  and  hands  and  are  ready  always 
to  help  the  Indians,  to  protect  them  from  fraud,  to 
keep  away  the  whisky-peddlers,  to  be  to  them  as  friends 
and  brothers.  But  my  brother  has  been  listening  to  a 
snake  that  comes  from  another  country  and  that 
speaks  with  a  forked  tongue.  Our  Government 
bought  the  land  by  treaty.  Running  Stream  knows 
this  to  be  no  lie,  but  the  truth.  Nor  did  the  Gov- 
ernment drive  away  the  buffalo  from  the  Indians. 
The  buffalo  were  driven  away  by  the  Sioux  from 
the  country  of  the  snake  with  the  forked  tongue. 
My  brother  remembers  that  only  a  few  years  ago 
when  the  people  to  which  this  lying  snake  belongs 
came  over  to  this  country  and  tried  to  drive  away 
from  their  hunting-grounds  the  Indians  of  this  coun- 
try, the  Police  protected  the  Indians  and  drove  back 
the  hungry  thieving  Sioux  to  their  own  land.  And 
now  a  little  bird  has  been  telling  me  that  this  lying 
snake  has  been  speaking  into  the  ears  of  our  Indian 
brothers  and  trying  to  persuade  them  to  dig  up  the 
hatchet  against  their  white  brothers,  their  friends. 
The  Police  know  all  about  this  and  laugh  at  it.  The 
Police  know  about  the  foolish  man  at  Batoche,  the 
traitor  Louis  Eiel.  They  know  he  is  a  liar  and  a 
coward.  He  leads  brave  men  astray  and  then  runs 


206          THE    SUN   DANCE    TEAIL 

away  and  leaves  them  to  suffer.  This  thing  he  did 
many  years  ago."  And  Cameron  proceeded  to  give  a 
brief  sketch  of  the  fantastic  and  futile  rebellion  of 
1870  and  of  the  ignoble  part  played  by  the  vain  and 
empty-headed  Kiel. 

The  effect  of  Cameron's  words  upon  the  Indians 
was  an  amazement  even  to  himself.  They  forgot  their 
breakfast  and  gathered  close  to  the  speaker,  their 
eager  faces  and  gleaming  eyes  showing  how  deeply 
stirred  were  their  hearts. 

Cameron  was  putting  into  his  story  an  intensity  of 
emotion  and  passion  that  not  only  surprised  himself, 
but  amazed  his  interpreter.  Indeed  so  amazed  was  the 
little  half-breed  at  Cameron's  quite  unusual  display 
of  oratorical  power  that  his  own  imagination  took 
fire  and  his  own  tongue  was  loosened  to  such  an 
extent  that  by  voice,  look,  tone  and  gesture  he  poured 
into  his  officer's  harangue  a  force  and  fervor  all  his 
own. 

"And  now,"  continued  Cameron,  "this  vain  and 
foolish  Frenchman  seeks  again  to  lead  you  astray,  to 
lead  you  into  war  that  will  bring  ruin  to  you  and  to 
your  children ;  and  this  lying  snake  from  your  ancient 
enemies,  the  Sioux,  thinking  you  are  foolish  children, 
seeks  to  make  you  fight  against  the  great  White  Mother 
across  the  seas.  He  has  been  talking  like  a  babbling 
old  man,  from  wrhom  the  years  have  taken  wisdom, 
wlion  he  says  that  the  half-breeds  and  Indians  can 
drive  the  white  man  from  these  plains.  Has  he  told 
you  how  many  are  the  children  of  the  White  Mother, 
how  many  are  the  soldiers  in  her  army  f  Listen  to  me, 
and  look!  Get  me  many  branches  from  the  trees," 
he  commanded  sharply  to  some  young  Indians  stand- 
ing near. 


207 


So  completely  were  the  Indians  under  the  thrall  of 
Ms  speech  that  a  dozen  of  them  sprang  at  once  to 
get  branches  from  the  poplar  trees  near  by. 

"I  will  show  you,"  said  Cameron,  "how  many  are 
the  "White  Mother's  soldiers.  See,"-— he  held  up  both 
hands  and  then  stuck  up  a  small  twig  in  the  sand  to 
indicate  the  number  ten.  Ten  of  these  small  twigs 
he  set  in  a  row  and  by  a  larger  stick  indicated  a  hun- 
dred, and  so  on  till  he  had  set  forth  in  the  sandy  soil 
a  diagrammatic  representation  of  a  hundred  thousand 
men,  the  Indians  following  closely  his  every  move- 
ment. "And  all  these  men, ' '  he  continued,  ' ' are  armed 
with  rifles  and  with  great  big  guns  that  speak  like 
thunder.  And  these  are  only  a  few  of  the  White 
Mother's  soldiers.  How  many  Indians  and  half- 
breeds  do  you  think  there  are  with  rifles?"  He  set 
in  a  row  sticks  to  represent  a  thousand  men.  "See," 
he  cried,  ' '  so  many. ' '  Then  he  added  another  similar 
row.  "Perhaps,  if  all  the  Indians  gathered,  so  many 
with  rifles.  No  more.  Now  look,"  he  said,  "no  big 
guns,  only  a  few  bullets,  a  little  powder,  a  little  food. 
Ha,  ha!"  he  laughed  contemptuously.  "The  Sioux 
snake  is  a  fool.  His  tongue  must  be  stopped.  My  In- 
dian brothers  here  will  not  listen  to  him,  but  there  are 
others  whose  hearts  are  like  the  hearts  of  little  chil- 
dren who  may  listen  to  his  lying  words.  The  Sioux 
snake  must  be  caught  and  put  in  a  cage,  and  this  I  do 
now. ' ' 

As  he  uttered  the  words  Cameron  sprang  for  the 
Sioux,  but  quicker  than  his  leap  the  Sioux  darted 
through  the  crowding  Indians  who,  perceiving  Cam- 
eron's intent,  thrust  themselves  in  his  path  and  en- 
abled the  Sioux  to  get  away  into  the  brush  behind. 


208         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

"Head  him  off,  Jerry,"  yelled  Cameron,  whistling 
sharply  at  the  same  time  for  his  men,  while  he  darted 
for  his  horse  and  threw  himself  upon  it.  The  whole 
camp  was  in  a  seething  uproar. 

"Back!"  yelled  Cameron,  drawing  his  gun.  The 
Indians  fell  away  from  him  like  waves  from  a  speeding 
vessel.  On  the  other  side  of  the  little  bluff  he  caught 
sight  of  a  mounted  Indian  flying  toward  the  moun- 
tains and  with  a  cry  he  started  in  pursuit.  It  took 
only  a  few  minutes  for  Cameron  to  discover  that  he 
was  gaming  rapidly  upon  his  man.  But  the  rough 
rocky  country  was  not  far  away  in  front  of  them,  and 
here  was  abundant  chance  for  hiding.  Closer  and 
closer  he  drew  to  his  flying  enemy — a  hundred  yards— 
seventy-five  yards — fifty  yards  only  separated  them, 

"Halt!"  cried  Cameron,  "or  I  shoot." 

But  the  Indian,  throwing  himself  on  the  far  side 
of  his  pony,  urged  him  to  his  topmost  speed. 

Cameron  steadied  himself  for  a  moment,  took  care- 
ful aim  and  fired.  The  flying  pony  stumbled,  recov- 
ered himself,  stumbled  again  and  fell.  But  even  be- 
fore he  reached  the  earth  his  rider  had  leaped  free, 
and,  still  some  thirty  yards  in  advance,  sped  onward. 
Half  a  dozen  strides  and  Cameron's  horse  was  upon 
him,  and,  giving  him  the  shoulder,  hurled  the  Indian 
senseless  to  earth.  In  a  flash  Cameron  was  at  his 
side,  turned  him  over  and  discovered  not  the  Sioux 
Chief  but  another  Indian  quite  unknown  to  him. 

His  rage  and  disappointment  were  almost  beyond 
his  control.  For  an  instant  he  held  his  gun  poised  as 
if  to  strike,  but  the  blow  did  not  fall.  His  self  com- 
mand came  back.  He  put  up  his  gun,  turned  quickly 
away  from  the  prostrate  Indian,  flung  himself  upon 
his  horse  and  set  off  swiftly  for  the  camp.  It  was  but 


IN   THE   BIG   WIGWAM  209 

a  mile  distant,  but  in  the  brief  time  consumed  in  reach- 
ing it  he  had  made  up  his  mind  as  to  his  line  of  ac- 
tion. Unless  his  men  had  captured  the  Sioux  it  was 
almost  certain  that  he  had  made  his  escape  to  the 
canyon,  and  once  in  the  canyon  there  was  little  hope 
of  his  being  taken.  It  was  of  the  first  importance  that 
he  should  not  appear  too  deeply  concerned  over  his 
failure  to  take  his  man. 

With  this  thought  in  his  mind  Cameron  loped  easily 
into  the  Indian  camp.  He  found  the  young  braves  in  a 
state  of  feverish  excitement.  Armed  with  guns  and 
clubs,  they  gathered  about  their  Chiefs  clamoring  to 
be  allowed  to  wipe  out  these  representatives  of  the 
Police  who  had  dared  to  attempt  an  arrest  of  this  dis- 
tinguished guest  of  theirs.  As  Cameron  appeared  the 
uproar  quieted  somewhat  and  the  Indians  gathered 
about  him,  eagerly  waiting  his  next  move. 

Cameron  cantered  up  to  Eunning  Stream  and,  look- 
ing round  upon  the  crowding  and  excited  braves,  he 
said,  with  a  smile  of  cool  indifference : 

"The  Sioux  snake  has  slid  away  in  the  grass.  He 
has  missed  his  breakfast.  My  brother  was  about  to 
eat.  After  he  has  eaten  we  will  have  some  quiet  talk. ' ' 

So  saying,  he  swung  himself  from  his  saddle,  drew 
the  reins  over  his  horse's  ears  and,  throwing  himself 
down  beside  a  camp  fire,  he  pulled  out  his  pipe  and 
proceeded  to  light  it  as  calmly  as  if  sitting  in  a  coun- 
cil-lodge. 

The  Indians  were  completely  nonplussed.  Nothing 
appeals  more  strongly  to  the  Indian  than  an  exhibi- 
tion of  steady  nerve.  For  some  moments  they  stood 
regarding  Cameron  with  looks  of  mingled  curiosity 
and  admiration  with  a  strong  admixture  of  impatience, 
for  they  had  thought  of  being  done  out  of  their  great 


210         THE   SUN   DANCE   TEAIL 

powwow  with  its  attendant  joys  of  dance  and  feast, 
and  if  this  Policeman  should  choose  to  remain  with 
them  all  day  there  could  certainly  be  neither  dancing 
nor  feasting  for  them.  In  the  meantime,  however, 
there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  accept  the  situation 
created  for  them.  This  cool-headed  Mounted  Police- 
man had  planted  himself  by  their  camp-fire.  They 
could  not  very  well  drive  him  from  their  camp,  nor 
could  they  converse  with  him  till  he  was  ready. 

As  they  were  thus  standing  about  in  uncertainty 
of  mind  and  temper  Jerry,  the  interpreter,  came  in 
and,  with  a  grunt  of  recognition,  threw  himself  down 
by  Cameron  beside  the  fire.  After  some  further  hesi- 
tation the  Indians  began  to  busy  themselves  once  more 
with  their  breakfast.  In  the  group  about  the  camp- 
fire  beside  which  Cameron  had  placed  himself  was  the 
Chief,  Eunning  Stream.  The  presence  of  the  Police- 
man beside  his  fire  was  most  embarrassing  to  the  Chief, 
for  no  man  living  has  a  keener  sense  of  the  obligations 
of  hospitality  than  has  the  Indian.  But  the  Indian 
hates  to  eat  in  the  presence  of  a  white  man  unless  the 
white  man  shares  his  meal.  Hence  Running  Stream 
approached  Cameron  with  a  courteous  request  that 
he  would  eat  with  them. 

"  Thanks,  Eunning  Stream,  I  have  eaten,  but  I  am 
sure  Jerry  here  will  be  glad  of  some  breakfast, ' '  said 
Cameron  cordially,  who  had  no  desire  whatever  to  dip 
out  of  the  very  doubtful  mess  in  the  pot  which  had 
been  set  down  on  the  ground  in  the  midst  of  the  group 
around  the  fire.  Jerry,  however,  had  no  scruples  in 
the  matter  and,  like  every  Indian  and  half-breed,  was 
always  ready  for  a  meal.  Having  thus  been  offered 
hospitality  and  having  by  proxy  accepted  it,  Cameron 


IN    THE   BIG   WIGWAM  211 

was  in  position  to  discuss  with  the  Chief  in  a  judicial 
if  not  friendly  spirit  the  matter  he  had  in  hand. 

Breakfast  over,  Cameron  offered  his  tobacco-pouch 
to  the  Chief,  who,  gravely  helping  himself  to  a  pipe- 
ful, passed  it  on  to  his  neighbor  who,  having  done 
likewise,  passed  it  in  turn  to  the  man  next  him  till 
the  tobacco  was  finished  and  the  empty  pouch  returned 
with  due  gravity  to  the  owner. 

Relations  of  friendly  diplomacy  being  thus  estab- 
lished, the  whole  party  sat  smoking  in  solemn  silence 
until  the  pipes  were  smoked  out.  Then  Cameron, 
knocking  the  ashes  from  his  pipe,  opened  up  the  mat- 
ter in  hand,  with  Jerry  interpreting. 

"The  Sioux  snake,"  he  began  quietly,  "will  be  hun- 
gry for  his  breakfast.  Honest  men  do  not  run  away 
before  breakfast." 

"Huh,"  grunted  Running  Stream,  non-committal. 

"The  Police  will  get  him  in  due  time,"  continued 
Cameron  in  a  tone  of  quiet  indifference.  "He  will 
cease  to  trouble  our  Indian  brothers  with  foolish  lies. 
The  prison  gates  are  strong  and  will  soon  close  upon 
this  stranger  with  the  forked  tongue." 

Again  the  Chief  grunted,  still  non-committal. 

' '  It  would  be  a  pity  if  any  of  your  young  men  should 
give  heed  to  these  silly  tales.  None  of  your  wise  men 
have  done  so.  In  the  Sioux  country  there  is  frequent 
war  between  the  soldiers  and  the  Indians  because  bad 
men  wish  to  wrong  the  Indians  and  the  Indians  grow 
angry  and  fight,  but  in  this  country  white  men  are 
punished  who  do  wrong  to  Indians.  This  Running 
Stream  knows  to  be  true. ' ' 

"Huh,"  grunted  Running  Stream  acquiescing. 

"When  Indians  do  wrong  to  white  men  it  is  just 


212         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

that  the  Indians  should  be  punished  as  well.  The 
Police  do  justly  between  the  white  man  and  the  In- 
dian. My  brother  knows  this  to  be  true." 

"Huh,"  again  grunted  Running  Stream  with  an 
uneasy  look  on  his  face. 

"Therefore  when  young  and  foolish  braves  steal 
and  kill  cattle  they  must  be  punished.  They  must 
be  taught  to  keep  the  law."  Here  Cameron's  voice 
grew  gentle  as  a  child's,  but  there  was  in  its  tone  some- 
thing that  made  the  Chief  glance  quickly  at  his  face. 

"Huh,  my  young  men  no  steal  cattle,"  he  said  sul- 
lenly. 

"No?  I  am  glad  to  hear  that.  I  believe  that  is 
true,  and  that  is  why  I  smoke  with  my  brother  beside 
his  camp  fire.  But  some  young  men  in  this  band  have 
stolen  cattle,  and  I  want  my  brother  to  find  them  that 
I  might  take  them  with  me  to  the  Commissioner." 

"Not  know  any  Indian  take  cattle,"  said  Eunning 
Stream  in  surly  defiance. 

"There  are  four  skins  and  four  heads  lying  in  the 
bluff  up  yonder,  Running  Stream.  I  am  going  to  take 
those  with  me  to  the  Commissioner  and  I  am  sure  he 
would  like  to  see  you  about  those  skins."  Cameron's 
manner  continued  to  be  mild  but  there  ran  through 
his  speech  an  undertone  of  stern  resolution  that  made 
the  Indian  squirm  a  bit. 

"Not  know  any  Indian  take  cattle,"  repeated  Run- 
ning Stream,  but  with  less  defiance. 

"Then  it  would  be  well  for  my  brother  to  find  out 
the  thieves,  for,"  and  here  Cameron  paused  and  looked 
the  Chief  steadily  in  the  face  for  a  few  moments,  "for 
we  are  to  take  them  back  with  us  or  we  will  ask  the 
Chief  to  come  and  explain  to  the  Commissioner  why 
he  does  not  know  what  his  young  men  are  doing. ' ' 


IN    THE   BIG   WIGWAM  213 

"No  Blackfeet  Indian  take  cattle,"  said  the  Chief 
once  more. 

"Good, "  said  Cameron.  "Then  it  must  be  the 
Bloods,  or  the  Piegans  or  the  Stonies.  We  will  call 
their  Chiefs  together." 

There  was  no  hurry  in  Cameron's  manner.  He  had 
determined  to  spend  the  day  if  necessary  in  running 
down  these  thieves.  At  his  suggestion  Running  Stream 
called  together  the  Chiefs  of  the  various  bands  of 
Indians  represented.  From  his  supplies  Cameron  drew 
forth  some  more  tobacco  and,  passing  it  round  the  cir- 
cle of  Chiefs,  calmly  waited  until  all  had  smoked  their 
pipes  out,  after  which  he  proceeded  to  lay  the  case 
before  them. 

"My  brothers  are  not  thieves.  The  Police  believe 
them  to  be  honest  men,  but  unfortunately  among  them 
there  have  crept  in  some  who  are  not  honest.  In  the 
bluff  yonder  are  four  hides  and  four  heads  of  steers, 
two  of  them  from  my  own  herd.  Some  bad  Indians 
have  stolen  and  killed  these  steers  and  they  are  here 
in  this  camp  to-day,  and  I  am  going  to  take  them  with 
me  to  the  Commissioner.  Eunning  Stream  is  a  great 
Chief  and  speaks  no  lies  and  he  tells  me  that  none  of 
his  young  men  have  taken  these  cattle.  Will  the  Chief 
of  the  Stonies,  the  Chief  of  the  Bloods,  the  Chief  of 
the  Piegans  say  the  same  for  their  young  men  1 ' ' 

"The  Stonies  take  no  cattle,"  answered  an  Indian 
whom  Cameron  recognized  as  the  leading  representa- 
tive of  that  tribe  present. 

"How  many  Stonies  here  I" 

The  Indian  held  up  six  fingers. 

"Ha,  only  six.  What  about  the  Bloods  and  the 
Piegans?"  demanded  Cameron.  "It  is  not  for  me," 
he  continued,  when  there  was  no  reply,  "to  discover 


214         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

the  cattle- thieves.  It  is  for  the  Big  Chief  of  this 
camp,  it  is  for  you,  Running  Stream,  and  when  you 
have  found  the  thieves  I  shall  arrest  them  and  bring 
them  to  the  Commissioner,  for  I  will  not  return  with- 
out them.  Meantime  I  go  to  bring  here  the  skins." 

So  saying,  Cameron  rode  leisurely  away,  leaving 
Jerry  to  keep  an  eye  upon  the  camp.  For  more  than 
an  hour  they  talked  among  themselves,  but  without 
result.  Finally  they  came  to  Jerry,  who,  during  his 
years  with  the  Police,  had  to  a  singular  degree  gained 
the  confidence  of  the  Indians.  But  Jerry  gave  them 
little  help.  There  had  been  much  stealing  of  cattle 
by  some  of  the  tribes,  not  by  all.  The  Police  had  been 
patient,  but  they  had  become  weary.  They  had  their 
suspicions  as  to  the  thieves. 

Eagle  Feather  was  anxious  to  know  what  Indians 
were  suspected. 

"Not  the  Stonies  and  not  the  Blackfeet,"  replied 
Jerry  quietly.  It  was  a  pity,  he  continued,  that  inno- 
cent men  should  suffer  for  the  guilty.  He  knew  Run- 
ning Stream  was  no  thief,  but  Running  Stream  must 
find  out  the  thieves  in  the  band  under  his  control. 
How  would  Running  Stream  like  to  have  the  great 
Chief  of  the  Blackfeet,  Crowfoot,  know  that  he  could 
not  control  the  young  men  under  his  command  and 
did  not  know  what  they  were  doing? 

This  suggestion  of  Jerry  had  a  mighty  effect  upon 
the  Blackfeet  Chief,  for  old  Crowfoot  was  indeed  a 
great  Chief  and  a  mighty  power  with  his  band,  and  to 
fall  into  disfavor  with  him  would  be  a  serious  matter 
for  any  junior  Chief  in  the  tribe. 

Again  they  withdrew  for  further  discussion  and 
soon  it  became  evident  that  Jerry's  cunning  sugges- 
tions had  sown  seeds  of  discord  among  them.  The 


IN   THE   BIG  WIGWAM 


dispute  waxed  hot  and  fierce,  not  as  to  the  guilty 
parties,  who  were  apparently  acknowledged  to  be  the 
Piegans,  but  as  to  the  course  to  be  pursued.  Running 
Stream  had  no  intention  that  his  people  and  himself 
should  become  involved  in  the  consequences  of  the 
crimes  of  other  tribes  whom  the  Blackf eet  counted  their 
inferiors.  Eagle  Feather  and  his  Piegans  must  bear 
the  consequences  of  their  own  misdeeds.  On  the  other 
hand  Eagle  Feather  pleaded  hard  that  they  should 
stand  together  in  this  matter,  that  the  guilty  parties 
could  not  be  disclosed.  The  Police  could  not  punish 
them  all,  and  all  the  more  necessary  was  it  that  they 
should  hold  together  because  of  the  larger  enterprise 
into  which  they  were  about  to  enter. 

The  absence  of  the  Sioux  Chief  Onawata,  however, 
weakened  the  bond  of  unity  which  he  more  than  any 
other  had  created  and  damped  the  ardor  of  the  less 
eager  of  the  conspirators.  It  was  likewise  a  serious 
blow  to  their  hopes  of  success  that  the  Police  knew  all 
their  plans.  Eunning  Stream  finally  gave  forth  his 
decision,  which  was  that  the  thieves  should  be  given 
up,  and  that  they  all  should  join  in  a  humble  petition 
to  the  Police  for  leniency,  pleading  the  necessity  of 
hunger  on  their  hunting-trip,  and,  as  for  the  larger 
enterprise,  that  they  should  apparently  abandon  it 
until  suspicion  had  been  allayed  and  until  the  plans  of 
their  brothers  in  the  North  were  more  nearly  matured. 
The  time  for  striking  had  not  yet  come. 

In  this  decision  all  but  the  Piegans  agreed.  In  vain 
Eagle  Feather  contended  that  they  should  stand  to- 
gether and  defy  the  Police  to  prove  any  of  them 
guilty.  In  vain  he  sought  to  point  out  that  if  in  this 
crisis  they  surrendered  the  Piegans  to  the  Police  never 


216 


again  could  they  count  upon  the  Piegans  to  support 
them  in  any  enterprise.  But  Running  Stream  and 
the  others  were  resolved.  The  thieves  must  be  given 
up. 

At  the  very  moment  in  which  this  decision  had  been 
reached  Cameron  rode  in,  carrying  with  him  the  in- 
criminating hides. 

"Here,  Jerry,"  he  said.  "You  take  charge  of  these 
and  bring  them  to  the  Commissioner." 

"All  right,"  said  Jerry,  taking  the  hides  from  Cam- 
eron's horse. 

"What  is  up,  Jerry?"  said  Cameron  in  a  low  voice 
as  the  half-breed  was  untying  the  bundle. 

"Beeg  row,"  whispered  Jerry.  "Eagle  Feather 
t'ief." 

"All  right,  keep  close." 

Quietly  Cameron  walked  over  to  the  group  of  ex- 
cited Indians.  As  he  approached  they  opened  their 
circle  to  receive  him. 

"My  brother  has  discovered  the  thief,"  he  said. 
"And  after  all  a  thief  is  easily  found  among  honest 
men." 

Slowly  and  deliberately  his  eye  traveled  round  the 
circle  of  faces,  keenly  scrutinizing  each  in  turn.  When 
he  came  to  Eagle  Feather  he  paused,  gazed  fixedly  at 
him,  took  a  single  step  in  his  direction,  and,  suddenly 
leveling  an  accusing  finger  at  him,  cried  in  a  loud 
voice : 

"I  have  found  him.    This  man  is  the  thief." 

Slowly  he  walked  up  to  the  Indian,  who  remained 
stoically  motionless,  laid  his  hand  upon  his  wrist  and 
said  in  a  clear  ringing  voice  heard  over  the  encamp- 
ment: 


IN   THE   BIG   WIGWAM  217 

"  Eagle  Feather,  I  arrest  you  in  the  name  of  the 
Queen!"  And  before  another  word  could  be  spoken 
or  a  movement  made  Eagle  Feather  stood  handcuffed, 
a  prisoner. 


218         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 


CHAPTER   XIV 

"GOOD  MAN — GOOD  SQUAW" 

THAT   boy   is   worse,    Mrs.    Cameron,    decidedly 
worse,  and  I  wash  my  hands  of  all  responsi- 
bility."    The  old  army  surgeon  was   clearly 
annoyed. 

Mandy  sat  silent,  weary  with  watching  and  weary 
with  the  conflict  that  had  gone  on  intermittently  dur- 
ing the  past  three  days.  The  doctor  was  determined 
to  have  the  gangrenous  foot  off.  That  was  the  sim- 
plest solution  of  the  problem  before  him  and  the  foot 
would  have  come  off  days  ago  if  he  had  had  his  way. 
But  the  Indian  boy  had  vehemently  opposed  this  pro- 
posal. ' '  One  foot — me  go  die, ' '  was  his  ultimatum,  and 
through  all  the  fever  and  delirium  this  was  his  con- 
tinuous refrain.  In  this  determination  his  nurse  sup- 
ported him,  for  she  could  not  bring  herself  to  the  con- 
viction that  amputation  was  absolutely  necessary,  and, 
besides,  of  all  the  melancholy  and  useless  driftwood 
that  drives  hither  and  thither  with  the  ebb  and  flow 
of  human  life,  she  could  imagine  none  more  melan- 
choly and  more  useless  than  an  Indian  crippled  of  a 
foot.  Hence  she  supported  the  boy  in  his  ultimatum, 
"One  foot — me  go  die." 

"That  foot  ought  to  come  off,"  repeated  the  doctor, 
beginning  the  controversy  anew.  "Otherwise  the  boy 
will  die." 

"But,  doctor,"  said  Mandy  wearily,  "just  think 
how  pitiable,  how  helpless  that  boy  will  be.  Death  is 
better.  And,  besides,  I  have  not  quite  given  up  hope 
that " 

The  doctor  snorted  his  contempt  for  her  opinion; 


"GOOD   MAN— GOOD    SQUAW     219 

and  only  his  respect  for  her  as  Cameron's  wife  and 
for  the  truly  extraordinary  powers  and  gifts  in  her 
profession  which  she  had  displayed  during  the  past 
three  days  held  back  the  wrathful  words  that  were  at 
his  lips.  It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  and  the  doctor 
had  given  many  hours  to  this  case,  riding  back  and 
forward  from  the  fort  every  day,  but  all  this  he  would 
not  have  grudged  could  he  have  had  his  way  with  his 
patient. 

"Well,  I  have  done  my  best,"  he  said,  "and  now  I 
must  go  back  to  my  work." 

"I  know,  doctor,  I  know,"  pleaded  Handy.  "Yon 
have  been  most  kind  and  I  thank  you  from  my  heart. ' ' 
She  rose  and  offered  him  her  hand.  ' '  Don 't  think  me 
too  awfully  obstinate,  and  please  forgive  me  if  you 
do." 

The  doctor  took  the  outstretched  hand  grudgingly. 

"Obstinate!"  he  exclaimed.  "Of  all  the  obstinate 
creatures " 

"Oh,  I  am  afraid  I  am.  But  I  don't  want  to  be 
unreasonable.  You  see,  the  boy  is  so  splendidly  plucky 
and  such  a  fine  chap." 

The  doctor  grunted. 

"He  is  a  fine  chap,  doctor,  and  I  can't  bear  to  have 
him  crippled,  and —  She  paused  abruptly,  her 

lips  beginning  to  quiver.  She  was  near  the  limit  of 
her  endurance. 

"You  would  rather  have  him  dead,  eh?  All  right, 
if  that  suits  you  better  it  makes  no  difference  to 
me,"  said  the  doctor  gruffly,  picking  up  his  bag. 
"Good-by." 

"Doctor,  you  will  come  back  again  to-morrow1?" 

"To-morrow?  Why  should  I  come  back  to-morrow? 
I  can  do  no  more — unless  you  agree  to  amputation. 


220         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

There  is  no  use  coming  back  to-morrow.  I  have  other 
cases  waiting  on  me.  I  can't  give  all  my  time  to  this 
Indian."  The  contempt  in  the  doctor's  voice  for  a 
mere  Indian  stung  her  like  a  whip.  On  Mandy's  cheek, 
pale  with  her  long  vigil,  a  red  flush  appeared  and  in 
her  eye  a  light  that  would  have  warned  the  doctor  had 
he  known  her  better. 

"Is  not  this  Indian  a  human  being?"  she  asked 
quietly. 

But  the  doctor  was  very  impatient  and  anxious  to 
be  gone. 

"A  human  being?  Yes,  of  course,  a  human  being, 
but  there  are  human  beings  and  human  beings.  But 
if  you  mean  an  Indian  is  as  good  as  a  white  man, 
frankly  I  don't  agree  with  you." 

"You  have  given  a  great  deal  of  your  time,  doctor," 
said  Mandy  with  quiet  deliberation,  "and  I  am  most 
grateful.  I  can  ask  no  more  for  this  Indian.  I  only 
regret  that  I  have  been  forced  to  ask  so  much  of  your 
time.  Good-by. ' '  There  was  a  ring  as  of  steel  in  her 
voice.  The  doctor  became  at  once  apologetic. 

"What — eh? — I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  stammered. 

"It  is  not  at  all  necessary.  Thank  you  again  for  all 
your  service.  Good-by." 

"  Eh  T    I  don 't  quite- ' ' 

"Good-by,  doctor,  and  again  thank  you." 

"Well,  you  know  quite  well  I  can't  do  any  more," 
said  the  old  doctor  crossly. 

"No,  I  don't  think  you  can." 

"Eh — what?  Well,  good-by."  And  awkwardly  the 
doctor  walked  away,  rather  uncertain  as  to  her  mean- 
ing but  with  a  feeling  that  he  had  been  dismissed. 

"Most  impossible  person!"  he  muttered  as  he  left 


"GOOD   MAN  — GOOD    SQUAW     221 

the  tent  door,  indignant  with  himself  that  no  fitting 
reply  would  come  to  his  lips.  And  not  until  he  had 
mounted  his  horse  and  taken  the  trail  was  he  able 
to  give  full  and  adequate  expression  to  his  feelings, 
and  even  then  it  took  him  some  considerable  time  to 
do  full  justice  to  himself  and  to  the  situation. 

Meantime  the  nurse  had  turned  back  to  her  watch, 
weary  and  despairing.  In  a  way  that  she  could  not 
herself  understand  the  Indian  boy  had  awakened  her 
interest  and  even  her  affection.  His  fine  stoical  cour- 
age, his  warm  and  impulsive  gratitude  excited  her 
admiration  and  touched  her  heart.  Again  arose  to  her 
lips  a  cry  that  had  been  like  a  refrain  in  her  heart 
for  the  past  three  days,  * '  Oh,  if  only  Dr.  Martin  were 
here ! ' '  Her  experience  and  training  under  Dr.  Martin 
had  made  it  only  too  apparent  that  the  old  army  sur- 
geon was  archaic  in  his  practice  and  method. 

"I  know  something  could  be  done!"  she  said  aloud, 
as  she  bent  over  her  patient.  "If  only  Dr.  Martin 
were  here!  Poor  boy!  Oh!  I  wish  he  were  here!" 

As  if  in  answer  to  her  cry  there  was  outside  a  sound 
of  galloping  horses.  She  ran  to  the  tent  door  and 
before  her  astonished  eyes  there  drew  up  at  her  tent 
Dr.  Martin,  her  sister-in-law  and  the  ever-faithful 
Smith. 

"Oh,  oh,  Dr.  Martin!"  she  cried,  running  to  him 
with  both  hands  outstretched,  and  could  say  no 
more. 

"Hello,  what's  up?  Say,  what  the  deuce  have  they 
been  doing  to  you?"  The  doctor  was  quite  wrathful. 

"Oh,  I  am  glad,  that's  all." 

"Glad?  Well,  you  show  your  joy  in  a  mighty  queer 
way." 

"She's  done  out,  Doctor,"  cried  Moira,  springing 


222         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

from  her  horse  and  running  to  her  sister-in-law.  "I 
ought  to  have  come  before  to  relieve  her,"  she  con- 
tinued penitently,  with  her  arms  round  Mandy,  "but  I 
knew  so  little,  and  besides  I  thought  the  doctor  was 
here." 

"He  was  here,"  said  Mandy,  recovering  herself. 
"He  has  just  gone,  and  oh,  I  am  glad.  He  wanted  to 
cut  his  foot  off. ' ' 

"Cut  his  foot  off?  Whose  foot  off?  His  own?" 
said  Dr.  Martin. 

"But  I  am  glad!  How  did  you  get  here  in  all  the 
world?" 

"Your  telegram  came  when  I  was  away,"  said  the 
doctor.  "I  did  not  get  it  for  a  day,  then  I  came  at 
once. ' ' 

"My  telegram?" 

"Yes,  your  telegram.  I  have  it  here — no,  I've  left 
it  somewhere — but  I  certainly  got  a  telegram  from 
you." 

' '  From  me  ?    I  never  sent  a  telegram. ' ' 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  Mrs.  Cameron.  I  understood 
you  to  desire  Dr.  Martin's  presence,  and — I  ventured 
to  send  a  wire  in  your  name.  I  hope  you  will  forgive 
the  liberty,"  said  Smith,  red  to  his  hair-roots  and 
looking  over  his  horse's  neck  with  a  most  apologetic 
air. 

"Forgive  the  liberty?"  cried  Mandy.  "Why,  bless 
you,  Mr.  Smith,  you  are  my  guardian  angel, ' '  running 
to  him  and  shaking  him  warmly  by  the  hand. 

"And  he  brought  us  here,  too,"  cried  Moira.  "He 
has  been  awfully  good  to  me  these  days.  I  do  not 
know  what  I  should  have  done  without  him." 

Meantime   Smith  was   standing  first   on  one  foot 


"GOOD   MAN  — GOOD    SQUAW"   223 

and  then  on  the  other  in  a  most  unhappy  state  of 
mind. 

"Guess  I  will  be  going  back,"  he  said  in  an  agony 
of  awkwardness  and  confusion.  "It  is  getting  kind 
of  late." 

"What?    Going  right  away?"  exclaimed  Mandy. 

"I've  got  some  chores  to  look  after,  and  I  guess 
none  of  you  are  coming  back  now  anyway." 

"Well,"  hold  on  a  bit,"  said  the  doctor.  "We'll 
see  what's  doing  inside.  Let's  get  the  lie  of  things." 

"Guess  you  don't  need  me  any  more,"  continued 
Smith.  "Good-by."  And  he  climbed  on  to  his  horse. 
"I  have  got  to  get  back.  So  long." 

No  one  appeared  to  have  any  good  reason  why  Smith 
should  remain,  and  so  he  rode  away. 

"Good-by,  Mr.  Smith,"  called  out  Mandy  impul- 
sively. "You  have  really  saved  my  life,  I  assure  you. 
I  was  in  utter  despair." 

"Good-by,  Mr.  Smith,"  cried  Moira,  waving  her 
hand  with  a  bright  smile.  "You  have  saved  me  too 
from  dying  many  a  time  these  three  days." 

Yfith  an  awkward  wave  Smith  answered  these  fare- 
wells and  rode  down  the  trail. 

"He  is  really  a  fine  fellow,"  said  Mandy.  "Always 
doing  something  for  people." 

"That  is  just  it,"  cried  Moira.  "He  has  spent  his 
whole  time  these  three  days  doing  things  for  me. ' ' 

"Ah,  no  wonder,"  said  the  doctor.  "A  most  useful 
chap.  But  what's  the  trouble  here?  Let's  get  at  the 
business." 

Mandy  gave  him  a  detailed  history  of  the  case,  the 
doctor  meanwhile  making  an  examination  of  the  pa- 
tient's general  condition. 

"And  the  doctor  would  have  his  foot  off,  but  I  would 


224         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

not  stand  for  that,"  cried  Mandy  indignantly  as  she 
closed  her  history. 

' '  H  'm !  Looks  bad  enough  to  come  off,  I  should  say. 
I  wish  I  had  been  here  a  couple  of  days  ago.  It  may 
have  to  come  off  all  right." 

"Oh,  Dr.  Martin!" 

"But  not  just  to-night." 

"Oh,  I  knew  it." 

"Not  to-night,"  I  said.  "I  don't  know  what  the 
outcome  may  be,  but  it  looks  as  bad  as  it  well  can." 

"OH,  that's  all  right,"  cried  Mandy  cheerfully. 
Her  burden  of  responsibility  was  lifted.  Her  care  was 
gone.  "I  knew  it  would  be  all  right." 

"Well,  whether  it  will  or  not  I  cannot  say.  But  one 
thing  I  do  know,  you've  got  to  trot  off  to  sleep.  Show 
me  the  ropes  and  then  off  you  go.  Who  runs  this 
camp  anyway?" 

"Oh,  the  Chief  does,  Chief  Trotting  Wolf.  I  will 
call  him,"  cried  Mandy.  "He  has  been  very  good  to 
me.  I  will  get  him."  And  she  ran  from  the  tent  to 
find  the  Chief. 

"Isn't  she  wonderful?"  said  Moira. 

"Wonderful?  I  should  say  so.  But  she  is  played 
right  out  I  can  see, ' '  replied  the  doctor.  *  *  I  must  get 
comfortable  quarters  for  you  both." 

' '  But  do  you  not  want  some  one  ? ' '  said  Moira.  * '  Do 
you  not  want  me?" 

"Do  I  want  you?"  echoed  the  doctor,  looking  at  her 
as  she  stood  in  the  glow  of  the  westering  sun  shining 
through  the  canvas  tent.  "Do  I  want  you?"  he  re- 
peated with  deliberate  emphasis.  "Well,  you  can  just 
bet  that  is  just  what  I  do  want." 

A  slight  flush  appeared  on  the  girl's  face. 


"GOOD    MAN  — GOOD    SQUAW     225 

"I  mean,"  she  said  hurriedly,  "cannot  I  be  of  some 
help?" 

"Most  certainly,  most  certainly,"  said  the  doctor, 
noting  the  flush.  "Your  help  will  be  invaluable  after 
a  bit.  But  first  you  must  get  Mrs.  Cameron  to  sleep. 
She  has  been  on  this  job,  I  understand,  for  three 
days.  She  is  quite  played  out.  And  you,  too,  need 
sleep." 

"Oh,  I  am  quite  fit.  I  do  not  need  sleep.  I  am 
quite  ready  to  take  my  sister-in-law's  place,  that  is,  as 
far  as  I  can.  And  you  will  surely  need  some  one — to 
help  you  I  mean."  The  doctor's  eyes  were  upon  her 
face.  Under  his  gaze  her  voice  faltered.  The  glow 
of  the  sunset  through  the  tent  walls  illumined  her 
face  with  a  wonderful  radiance. 

"Miss  Moira,"  said  the  doctor  with  abrupt  vehe- 
mence, "I  wish  I  had  the  nerve  to  tell  you  just  how 
much " 

"Hush!"  cried  the  girl,  her  glowing  face  suddenly 
pale,  "they  are  coming." 

"Here  is  the  Chief,  Dr.  Martin,"  cried  Mandy,  ush- 
ering in  that  stately  individual.  The  doctor  saluted 
the  Chief  in  due  form  and  said: 

"Could  we  have  another  tent,  Chief,  for  these  ladies'? 
Just  beside  this  tent  here,  so  that  they  can  have  a  little 
sleep." 

The  Chief  grunted  a  doubtful  acquiescence,  but  in 
due  time  a  tent  very  much  dilapidated  was  pitched 
upon  the  clean  dry  ground  close  beside  that  in  which 
the  sick  boy  lay.  While  this  was  being  done  the 
doctor  was  making  a  further  examination  of  his  pa- 
tient. With  admiring  eyes,  Moira  followed  the  swift 
movements  of  his  deft  fingers.  There  was  no  hesita- 


226         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

tion.  There  was  no  fumbling.  There  was  the  sure 
indication  of  accurate  knowledge,  the  obvious  self- 
confidence  of  experience  in  everything  he  did.  Even 
to  her  untutored  eyes  the  doctor  seemed  to  be  walking 
with  a  very  firm  tread. 

At  length,  after  an  hour's  work,  he  turned  to  Mandy 
who  was  assisting  him  and  said: 

"Now  you  can  both  go  to  sleep.  I  shall  need  you 
no  more  till  morning.  I  shall  keep  an  eye  on  him. 
Off  you  go.  Good-night." 

"You  will  be  sure  to  call  me  if  I  can  be  of  service," 
said  Mandy. 

"I  shall  do  no  such  thing.  I  expect  you  to  sleep. 
I  shall  look  after  this  end  of  the  job." 

"He  is  very  sure  of  himself,  is  he  not?"  said  Moira 
in  a  low  tone  to  her  sister-in-law  as  they  passed  out 
of  the  tent. 

"He  has  a  right  to  be,"  said  Mandy  proudly.  "He 
knows  his  work,  and  now  I  feel  as  if  I  can  sleep  in 
peace.  What  a  blessed  thing  sleep  is,"  she  added,  as, 
without  undressing,  she  tumbled  on  to  the  couch  pre- 
pared for  her. 

"Is  Dr.  Martin  very  clever?  I  mean,  is  he  an  edu- 
cated man  ? ' ' 

1 '  What  ? ' '  cried  Mandy.    '  *  Dr.  Martin  what  ? ' ' 

"Is  he  very  clever?    Is  he — an  educated  man?" 

"Eh,  what?"  she  repeated,  yawning  desperately. 
"Oh,  I  was  asleep." 

"Is  he  clever?" 

"Clever?  Well,  rather Her  voice  was  trail- 
ing off  again  into  slumber. 

"And  is  he  an  educated  man?" 

"Educated?  Knows  his  work  if  that's  what  you 
mean.  Oh-h — but  I'm  sleepy." 


"GOOD   MAN  — GOOD    SQUAW"   227 

"Is  he  a  gentleman?" 

"Eh?  What?"  Mandy  sat  up  straight.  "A  gen- 
tleman? I  should  say  so!  That  is,  he  is  a  man  all 
through  right  to  his  toe-tips.  And  gentle — more  gentle 
than  any  woman  I  ever  saw.  Will  that  do?  Good- 
night. ' '  And  before  Moira  could  make  reply  she  was 
sound  asleep. 

Before  the  night  was  over  the  opportunity  was  given 
the  doctor  to  prove  his  manhood,  and  in  a  truly  spec- 
tacular manner.  For  shortly  after  midnight  Moira 
found  herself  sitting  bolt  upright,  wide-awake  and 
clutching  her  sister-in-law  in  wild  terror.  Outside 
their  tent  the  night  was  hideous  with  discordant 
noises,  yells,  whoops,  cries,  mingled  with  the  beating 
of  tom-toms.  Terrified  and  trembling,  the  two  girls 
sprang  to  the  door,  and,  lifting  the  flap,  peered  out. 
It  was  the  party  of  braves  returning  from  the  great 
powwow  so  rudely  interrupted  by  Cameron.  They 
were  returning  in  an  evil  mood,  too,  for  they  were 
enraged  at  the  arrest  of  Eagle  Feather  and  three  ac- 
complices in  his  crime,  disappointed  in  the  interruption 
of  their  sun  dance  and  its  attendant  joys  of  feast  and 
song,  and  furious  at  what  appeared  to  them  to  be  the 
.overthrow  of  the  great  adventure  for  which  they  had 
been  preparing  and  planning  for  the  past  two  months. 
This  was  indeed  the  chief  cause  of  their  rage,  for  it 
seemed  as  if  all  further  attempts  at  united  effort 
among  the  Western  tribes  had  been  frustrated  by  the 
discovery  of  their  plans,  by  the  flight  of  their  leader, 
and  by  the  treachery  of  the  Blackfeet  Chief,  Running 
Stream,  in  surrendering  their  fellow-tribesmen  to  the 
Police.  To  them  that  treachery  rendered  impossible 
any  coalition  between  the  Piegans  -and  the  Blackfeet. 
Furthermore,  before  their  powwow  had  been  broken 


228         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

up  there  had  been  distributed  among  them  a  few  bot- 
tles of  whisky  provided  beforehand  by  the  astute  Sioux 
as  a  stimulus  to  their  enthusiasm  against  a  moment 
of  crisis  when  such  stimulus  should  be  necessary. 
These  bottles,  in  the  absence  of  their  great  leader,  were 
distributed  among  the  tribes  by  Running  Stream  as 
a  peace-offering,  but  for  obvious  reason  not  until  the 
moment  came  for  their  parting  from  each  other. 

Filled  with  rage  and  disappointment,  and  maddened 
with  the  bad  whisky  they  had  taken,  they  poured  into 
the  encampment  with  wild  shouting  accompanied  by 
the  discharge  of  guns  and  the  beating  of  drums.  In 
terror  the  girls  clung  to  each  other,  gazing  out  upon 
the  horrid  scene. 

"Whatever  is  this,  Handy?"  cried  Moira. 

But  her  sister-in-law  could  give  her  little  explana- 
tion. The  moonlight,  glowing  bright  as  day,  revealed 
a  truly  terrifying  spectacle.  A  band  of  Indians,  al- 
most naked  and  hideously  painted,  were  leaping,  shout- 
ing, beating  drums  and  firing  guns.  Out  from  the 
tents  poured  the  rest  of  the  band  to  meet  them,  eagerly 
inquiring  into  the  cause  of  their  excitement.  Soon 
fires  were  lighted  and  kettles  put  on,  for  the  Indian's 
happiness  is  never  complete  unless  associated  with 
feasting,  and  the  whole  band  prepared  itself  for  a  time 
of  revelry. 

As  the  girls  stood  peering  out  upon  this  terrible 
scene  they  became  aware  of  the  doctor  standing  at 
their  side. 

"Say,  they  seem  to  be  cutting  up  rather  rough,  don't 
they?"  he  said  coolly.  "I  think  as  a  precautionary 
measure  you  had  better  step  over  into  the  other  tent." 

Hastily  gathering  their  belongings,  they  ran  across 


"GOOD   MAN  — GOOD    SQUAW"   229 

with  the  doctor  to  his  tent,  from  which  they  continued 
to  gaze  upon  the  weird  spectacle  before  them. 

About  the  largest  fire  in  the  center  of  the  camp  the 
crowd  gathered,  Chief  Trotting  Wolf  in  the  midst,  and 
were  harangued  by  one  of  the  returning  braves  who 
was  evidently  reciting  the  story  of  their  experiences 
and  whose  tale  was  received  with  the  deepest  interest 
and  was  punctuated  by  mad  cries  and  whoops.  The 
one  English  word  that  could  be  heard  was  the  word 
"Police,"  and  it  needed  no  interpreter  to  ^xplain  to 
the  watchers  that  the  chief  object  of  fury  to  the  crowd- 
ing, gesticulating  Indians  about  the  fire  was  the  Po- 
liceman who  had  been  the  cause  of  their  humiliation 
and  disappointment.  In  a  pause  of  the  uproar  a  loud 
exclamation  from  an  Indian  arrested  the  attention  of 
the  band.  Once  more  he  uttered  his  exclamation  and 
pointed  to  the  tent  lately  occupied  by  the  ladies. 
Quickly  the  whole  band  about  the  fire  appeared  to 
bunch  together  preparatory  to  rush  in  the  direction 
indicated,  but  before  they  could  spring  forward  Trot- 
ting Wolf,  speaking  rapidly  and  with  violent  gesticu- 
lation, stood  in  their  path.  But  his  voice  was  unheeded. 
He  was  thrust  aside  and  the  whole  band  came  rushing 
madly  toward  the  tent  lately  occupied  by  the  ladies. 

* '  Get  back  from  the  door, ' '  said  the  doctor,  speaking 
rapidly.  "These  chaps  seem  to  be  somewhat  excited. 
I  wish  I  had  my  gun, ' '  he  continued,  looking  about  the 
tent  for  a  weapon  of  some  sort.  "This  will  do,"  he 
said,  picking  up  a  stout  poplar  pole  that  had  been  used 
for  driving  the  tent  pegs.  "Stay  inside  here.  Don't 
move  till  I  tell  you." 

"But  they  will  kill  you,"  cried  Moira,  laying  her 
hand  upon  his  arm.  "You  must  not  go  out." 

* '  Nonsense ! ' '  said  the  doctor  almost  roughly.    * '  Kill 


230         THE   SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

me?  Not  much.  I'll  knock  some  of  their  blocks  off 
first."  So  saying,  he  lifted  the  flap  of  the  tent  and 
passed  out  just  as  the  rush  of  maddened  Indians  came. 

Upon  the  ladies '  tent  they  fell,  kicked  the  tent  poles 
down,  and,  seizing  the  canvas  ripped  it  clear  from  its 
pegs.  Some  moments  they  spent  searching  the  empty 
bed,  then  turned  with  renewed  cries  toward  the  other 
tent  before  which  stood  the  doctor,  waiting,  grim, 
silent,  savage.  For  a  single  moment  they  paused,  ar- 
rested by  the  silent  figure,  then  with  a  whoop  a  drink- 
maddened  "brave  sprang  toward  the  tent,  his  rifle 
clubbed  to  strike.  Before  he  could  deliver  his  blow 
the  doctor,  stepping  swiftly  to  one  side,  swung  his 
poplar  club  hard  upon  the  uplifted  arms,  sent  the  rifle 
crashing  to  the  ground  and  with  a  backward  swing 
caught  the  astonished  brave  on  the  exposed  head  and 
dropped  him  to  the  earth  as  if  dead. 

1  'Take  that,  you  dog!"  he  cried  savagely.  "Come 
on,  who's  next?"  he  shouted,  swinging  his  club  as  a 
player  might  a  baseball  bat. 

Before  the  next  rush,  however,  help  came  in  an  un- 
expected form.  The  tent  flap  was  pushed  back  and  at 
the  doctor's  side  stood  an  apparition  that  checked  the 
Indians'  advance  and  stilled  their  cries.  It  was  the 
Indian  boy,  clad  in  a  white  night  robe  of  Mandy's  pro- 
viding, his  rifle  in  his  hand,  his  face  ghastly  in  the 
moonlight  and  his  eyes  burning  like  flames  of  light. 
One  cry  he  uttered,  weird,  fierce,  unearthly,  but  it 
seemed  to  pierce  like  a  knife  through  the  stillness  that 
had  fallen.  Awed,  sobered,  paralyzed,  the  Indians 
stood  motionless.  Then  from  their  ranks  ran  Chief 
Trotting  Wolf,  picked  up  the  rifle  of  the  Indian  who 
still  lay  insensible  on  the  ground,  and  took  his  place 
beside  the  boy. 


"GOOD   MAN  — GOOD   SQUAW"   231 

A  few  words  lie  spoke  in  a  voice  that  rang  out 
fiercely  imperious.  Still  the  Indians  stood  motionless. 
Again  the  Chief  spoke  in  short,  sharp  words  of  com- 
mand, and,  as  they  still  hesitated,  took  one  swift  stride 
toward  the  man  that  stood  nearest,  swinging  his  rifle 
over  his  head.  Forward  sprang  the  doctor  to  his  side, 
his  poplar  club  likewise  swung  up  to  strike.  Back  fell 
the  Indians  a  pace  or  two,  the  Chief  following  them 
with  a  torrential  flow  of  vehement  invective.  Slowly, 
sullenly  the  crowd  gave  back,  cowed  but  still  wrathful, 
and  beginning  to  mutter  in  angry  undertones.  Once 
more  the  tent  flap  was  pushed  aside  and  there  issued 
two  figures  who  ran  to  the  side  of  the  Indian  boy,  now 
swaying  weakly  upon  his  rifle. 

"My  poor  boy!"  cried  Mandy,  throwing  her  arms 
round  about  him,  and,  steadying  him  as  he  let  his 
rifle  fall,  let  him  sink  slowly  to  the  ground. 

"You  cowards!"  cried  Moira,  seizing  the  rifle  that 
the  boy  had  dropped  and  springing  to  the  doctor's 
side.  ' '  Look  at  what  you  have  done ! ' '  She  turned  and 
pointed  indignantly  to  the  swooning  boy. 

With  an  exclamation  of  wrath  the  doctor  stepped 
back  to  Mandy 's  aid,  forgetful  of  the  threatening  In- 
dians and  mindful  only  of  his  patient.  Quickly  he 
sprang  into  the  tent,  returning  with  a  stimulating 
remedy,  bent  over  the  boy  and  worked  with  him  till 
he  came  back  again  to  life. 

Once  more  the  Chief,  who  with  the  Indians  had  been 
gazing  upon  this  scene,  turned  and  spoke  to  his  band, 
this  time  in  tones  of  quiet  dignity,  pointing  to  the  lit- 
tle group  behind  him.  Silent  and  subdued  the  Indians 
listened,  their  quick  impulses  like  those  of  children 
stirred  to  sympathy  for  the  lad  and  for  those  who 
would  aid  him.  Gradually  the  crowd  drew  off,  sepa- 


232         THE   SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 

rating  into  groups  and  gathering  about  the  various 
fires.    For  the  time  the  danger  was  over. 

Between  them  Dr.  Martin  and  the  Chief  carried  the 
boy  into  the  tent  and  laid  him  on  his  bed. 

"What  sort  of  beasts  have  you  got  out  there  any- 
way?" said  the  doctor,  facing  the  Chief  abruptly. 

"Him  drink  bad  whisky,"  answered  the  Chief,  tip- 
ping up  his  hand.  "Him  crazee,"  touching  his  head 
with  his  forefinger. 

"Crazy!  "Well,  I  should  say.  What  they  want  is 
a  few  ounces  of  lead." 

The  Chief  made  no  reply,  but  stood  with  his  eyes 
turned  admiringly  upon  Moira 's  face. 

"Squaw — him  good,"  he  said,  pointing  to  the  girl. 
"No  'fraid — much  brave — good." 

"You  are  right  enough  there,  Chief,"  replied  the 
doctor  heartily. 

"Him  you  squaw?"  inquired  the  Chief,  pointing  to 
Moira. 

"Well — eh?  No,  not  exactly,"  replied  the  doctor, 
much  confused,  "that  is — not  yet  I  mean " 

"Huh!  Him  good  squaw.  Him  good  man,"  replied 
the  Chief,  pointing  first  to  Moira,  then  to  the  doctor. 

Moira  hurried  to  the  tent  door. 

"They  are  all  gone,"  she  exclaimed.  "Thank  God! 
How  awful  they  are ! ' ' 

"Huh!"  replied  the  Chief,  moving  out  past  her. 
'  *  Him  drink,  him  crazee — no  drink,  no  crazee. ' '  At  the 
door  he  paused,  and,  looking  back,  said  once  more 
with  increased  emphasis,  "Huh!  Him  good  squaw," 
and  finally  disappeared. 

' '  By  Jove ! ' '  said  the  doctor  with  a  delighted  chuckle. 
'  *  The  old  boy  is  a  man  of  some  discernment  I  can  see. 
But  the  kid  and  you  saved  the  day,  Miss  Moira. ' ' 


"GOOD   MAN  — GOOD   SQUAW"   233 

"Oh,  what  nonsense  you  are  talking.  It  was  truly 
awful,  and  how  splendidly  you — you— 

"Well,  I  caught  him  rather  a  neat  one,  I  confess. 
I  wonder  if  the  brute  is  sleeping  yet.  But  you  did  the 
trick  finally,  Miss  Moira." 

"Huh,"  grunted  Mandy  derisively,  "Good  man — 
good  squaw,  eh?" 


234         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 
CHAPTER   XV 

THE   OUTLAW 

THE  bitter  weather  following  an  autumn  of  un- 
usual mildness  had  set  in  with  the  New  Year 
and  had  continued  without  a  break  for  fifteen 
days.  A  heavy  fall  of  snow  with  a  blizzard  blowing 
sixty  miles  an  hour  had  made  the  trails  almost  im- 
passable, indeed  quite  so  to  any  but  to  those  bent  on 
desperate  business  or  to  Her  Majesty's  North  West 
Mounted  Police.  To  these  gallant  riders  all  trails 
stood  open  at  all  seasons  of  the  year,  no  matter  what 
snow  might  fall  or  blizzard  blow,  so  long  as  duty  called 
them  forth. 

The  trail  from  the  fort  to  the  Big  Horn  Ranch,  how- 
ever, was  so  wind-swept  that  the  snow  was  blow* 
away,  which  made  the  going  fairly  easy,  and  the  Super- 
intendent, Inspector  Dickson  and  Jerry  trotted  along 
freely  enough  in  the  face  of  a  keen  southwester  that 
cut  to  the  bone.  It  was  surely  some  desperate  business 
indeed  that  sent  them  out  into  the  face  of  that  cutting 
wind  which  made  even  these  hardy  riders,  burned 
hard  and  dry  by  scorching  suns  and  biting  blizzards, 
wince  and  shelter  their  faces  with  their  gauntleted 
hands. 

"Deuce  of  a  wind,  this!'*  said  the  Superintendent 

"It  is  the  raw  southwester  that  gets  to  the  bone," 
replied  Inspector  Dickson.  "This  will  blow  up  a 
chinook  before  night." 

"I  wonder  if  he  has  got  into  shelter,"  said  the  Su- 
perintendent. "This  has  been  an  unusually  hard  fort- 
night, and  I  am  afraid  he  went  rather  light. ' ' 

"Oh,  he's  sure  to  be  all  right,"  replied  the  Inspe?- 


THE    OUTLAW  235 

tor  quickly.  "He  was  riding,  but  lie  took  his  snow- 
shoes  with  him  for  timber  work.  He 's  hardly  the  man 
to  get  caught  and  he  won't  quit  easily. " 

"No,  he  won't  quit,  but  there  are  times  when  human 
endurance  fails.  Not  that  I  fear  anything  like  that 
for  Cameron, ' '  added  the  Superintendent  hastily. 

"Oh,  he's  not  the  man  to  fall  down,"  replied  the 
Inspector.  "He  goes  the  limit,  but  he  keeps  his  head. 
He's  no  reckless  fool." 

"Well,  you  ought  to  know  him,"  said  the  Superin- 
tendent. "You  have  been  through  some  things  to- 
gether, but  this  last  week  has  been  about  the  worst 
that  I  have  known.  This  fortnight  will  be  remembered 
in  the  annals  of  this  country.  And  it  came  so  unex- 
pectedly. What  do  yon  think  about  it,  Jerry?"  con- 
tinued the  Superintendent,  turning  to  the  half-breed. 

"He  good  man — cold  ver'  bad — ver'  long.  S'pose 
catch  heem  on  plains — ver7  bad." 

The  Inspector  touched  his  horse  to  a  canter.  The 
vision  that  floated  before  his  mind's  eye  while  the 
half-breed  was  speaking  he  hated  to  contemplate. 

"He's  all  right.  He  has  come  through  too  many 
tight  places  to  fail  here,"  said  the  Inspector  in  a  tone 
almost  of  defiance,  and  refused  to  talk  further  upon 
the  subject.  But  he  kept  urging  the  pace  till  they 
drew  up  at  the  stables  of  the  Big  Horn  Ranch. 

The  Inspector's  first  glance  upon  opening  the  stable 
door  swept  the  stall  where  Ginger  was  wont  to  con- 
duct his  melancholy  ruminations.  It  gave  him  a  start 
to  see  the  stall  empty. 

"Hello,  Smith!"  he  cried  as  that  individual  ap- 
peared with  a  bundle  of  hay  from  the  stack  in  the 
yard  outside.  "Boss  home?" 

"Has  Mr.  Cameron  returned?"  inquired  the  Super- 


236         THE   SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 

intendent  in  the  same  breath,  and  in  spite  of  himself 
a  note  of  anxiety  had  crept  into  his  voice.  The  three 
men  stood  waiting,  their  tense  attitude  expressing  the 
anxiety  they  would  not  put  into  words.  The  deliberate 
Smith,  who  had  transferred  .his  services  from  old 
Thatcher  to  Cameron  and  who  had  taken  the  ranch 
and  all  persons  and  things  belonging  to  it  into  his 
immediate  charge,  disposed  of  his  bundle  in  a  stall, 
and  then  facing  them  said  slowly: 

"Guess  he's  all  right." 

"Is  he  home?"  asked  the  Inspector  sharply. 

1 '  Oh,  he 's  home  all  right.  Gone  to  bed,  I  think, ' '  an- 
swered Smith  with  maddening  calmness. 

The  Inspector  cursed  him  between  his  teeth  and 
turned  away  from  the  others  till  his  eyes  should  be 
clear  again. 

"We  will  just  look  in  on  Mrs.  Cameron  for  a  few 
minutes,"  said  the  Superintendent.  "We  won't  dis- 
turb him." 

Leaving  Jerry  to  put  up  their  horses,  they  went  into 
the  ranch-house  and  found  the  ladies  in  a  state  of 
suppressed  excitement.  Mandy  met  them  at  the  door 
with  an  eager  welcome,  holding  out  to  them  trembling 
hands. 

"Oh,  I  am  so  glad  you  have  come!"  she  cried.  "It 
was  all  I  could  do  to  hold  him  back  from  going  to  you 
even  as  he  was.  He  was  quite  set  on  going  and  only 
lay  down  on  promise  that  I  should  wake  him  in  an 
hour.  Sit  down  here  by  the  fire.  An  hour,  mind  you, ' ' 
she  continued,  talking  rapidly  and  under  obvious  ex- 
citement, ' '  and  him  so  blind  and  exhausted  that— 
She  paused  abruptly,  unable  to  command  her  voice. 

"He  ought  to  sleep  twelve  hours  straight,"  said  the 


THE   OUTLAW  237 

Superintendent  with  emphasis,  "and  twenty-four 
would  be  better,  with  suitable  breaks  for  refreshment," 
he  added  in  a  lighter  tone,  glancing  at  Mandy's  face. 

"Yes,  indeed,"  she  replied,  "for  he  has  had  little 
enough  to  eat  the  last  three  days.  And  that  reminds 
me — "  she  hurried  to  the  pantry  and  returned  with 
the  teapot — "you  must  be  cold,  Superintendent.  Ah, 
this  terrible  cold!  A  hot  cup  of  tea  will  be  just  the 
thing.  It  will  take  only  five  minutes — and  it  is  better 
than  punch,  though  perhaps  you  men  do  not  think  so." 
She  laughed  somewhat  wildly. 

"Why,  Mrs.  Cameron,"  said  the  Superintendent  in 
a  shocked,  bantering  voice,  "how  can  you  imagine  we 
should  be  guilty  of  such  heresy — in  this  prohibition 
country,  too?" 

"Oh,  I  know  you  men,"  replied  Mandy.  "We  keep 
some  Scotch  in  the  house — beside  the  laudanum.  Some 
people  can't  take  tea,  you  know,"  she  added  with  an 
uncertain  smile,  struggling  to  regain  control  of  her- 
self. "But  all  the  same,  I  am  a  nurse,  and  I  know 
that  after  exposure  tea  is  better." 

"Ah,  well,"  replied  the  Superintendent,  "I  bow  to 
your  experience,"  making  a  brave  attempt  to  meet 
her  mood  and  declining  to  note  her  unusual  excite- 
ment. 

In  the  specified  five  minutes  the  tea  was  ready. 

"I  could  quite  accept  your  tea-drinking  theory,  Mrs. 
Cameron,"  said  Inspector  Dickson,  "if — if,  mark  you 
— I  should  always  get  such  tea  as  this.  But  I  don't 
believe  Jerry  here  would  agree. ' ' 

Jerry,  who  had  just  entered,  stood  waiting  expla- 
nation. 

"Mrs.  Cameron  has  just  been  upholding  the  virtue 


238          THE    SUN   DANCE    TEAIL 

of  a  good  cup  of  tea,  Jerry,  over  a  hot  Scotch  after  a 
cold  ride.    Now  what's  your  unbiased  opinion1?"  . 

A  slight  grin  wrinkled  the  cracks  in  Jerry's  leather- 
skin  face. 

"Hot  whisky  —  good  for  fun  —  for  cold  no  good. 
Whisky  good  for  sleep  —  for  long  trail  no  good." 

"Thank  you,  Jerry,"  cried  Mandy  enthusiastically. 

"Oh,  that's  all  right,  Jerry,"  said  the  Inspector, 
joining  in  the  general  laugh  that  followed,  "but  I  don't 
think  Miss  Moira  here  would  agree  with  you  in  regard 
to  the  merits  of  her  national  beverage.  '  ' 

"Oh,  I  am  not  so  sure,"  cried  the  young  lady,  enter- 
ing into  the  mood  of  the  others.  "Of  course,  I  am 
Scotch  and  naturally  stand  up  for  my  country  and  for 
its  customs,  but,  to  be  strictly  honest,  I  remember  hear- 
ing my  brother  say  that  Scotch  was  bad  training  for 
football." 

"Good  again!"  cried  Mandy.  "You  see,  when  any- 
thing serious  is  on,  the  wisest  people  cut  out  the 
Scotch,  as  the  boys  say.  '  ' 

"You  are  quite  right,  Mrs.  Cameron,"  said  the  Su- 
perintendent, becoming  grave.  '  '  On  the  long  trail  and 
in  the  bitter  cold  we  drop  the  Scotch  and  bank  on  tea. 
As  for  whisky,  the  Lord  knows  it  gives  the  Police 
enough  trouble  in  this  country.  If  it  were  not  for  the 
whisky  half  our  work  would  be  cut  out.  But  tell  me, 
how  is  Mr.  Cameron?"  he  added,  as  he  handed  back 
his  cup  for  another  supply  of  tea. 

1  '  Done  up,  or  more  nearly  done  up  than  ever  I  have 
seen  him,  or  than  I  ever  want  to  see  him  again." 
Mandy  paused  abruptly,  handed  him  his  cup  of  tea, 
passed  into  the  pantry  and  for  some  moments  did  not 
appear  again. 

Oh,  it  was  terrible  to  see  him,"  said  Moira,  clasp- 


" 


THE    OUTLAW  239 

ing  her  hands  and  speaking  in  an  eager,  excited  voice. 
( 'He  came,  poor  boy,  stumbling  toward  the  door.  He 
had  to  leave  his  horse,  you  know,  some  miles  away. 
Through  the  window  we  saw  him  coming  along — and 
we  did  not  know  him — he  staggered  as  if — as  if — 
actually  as  if  he  were  drunk."  Her  laugh  was  almost 
hysterical.  "And  he  could  not  find  the  latch — and 
when  we  opened  the  door  his  eyes  were — oh! — so  ter- 
rible ! — wild — and  bloodshot — and  blind !  Oh,  I  cannot 
tell  you  about  it!"  she  exclaimed,  her  voice  breaking 
and  her  tears  falling  fast.  "And  he  could  hardly 
speak  to  us.  We  had  to  cut  off  his  snow-shoes — and 
his  gauntlets  and  his  clothes  were  like  iron.  He  could 
not  sit  down — he  just — just — lay  on  the  floor — till — my 
sister—  Here  the  girl's  sobs  interrupted  her  story. 

"Great  Heavens!"  cried  the  Superintendent. 
"What  a  mercy  he  reached  home!" 

The  Inspector  had  risen  and  came  round  to  Moira's 
side. 

' '  Don 't  try  to  tell  me  any  more, ' '  he  said  in  a  husky 
voice,  patting  her  gently  on  the  shoulder.  "He  is 
here  with  us,  safe,  poor  chap.  My  God!"  he  cried  in 
an  undertone,  "what  he  must  have  gone  through!" 

At  this  point  Mandy  returned  and  took  her  place 
again  quietly  by  the  fire. 

"It  was  this  sudden  spell  of  cold  that  nearly  killed 
him,"  she  said  in  a  quiet  voice.  "He  was  not  fully 
prepared  for  it,  and  it  caught  him  at  the  end  of  his 
trip,  too,  when  he  was  nearly  played  out.  You  see, 
he  was  five  weeks  away  and  he  had  only  expected  to 
be  three." 

"Yes,  I  know,  Mrs.  Cameron, "*  said  the  Inspector. 

"An  unexpected  emergency  seems  to  have  arisen." 

"I  don't  know  what  it  was,"  replied  Mandy.     "He 


240         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

could  tell  me  little,  but  lie  was  determined  to  go  on 
to  the  fort." 

"I  know  something  about  his  plans,"  said  the  In- 
spector. "He  had  proposed  a  tour  of  the  reserves,  be- 
ginning with  the  Piegans  and  ending  with  the  Bloods. ' ' 

"And  we  know  something  of  his  work,  too,  Mrs. 
Cameron,"  said  the  Superintendent.  "Superintendent 
Strong  has  sent  us  a  very  fine  report  indeed  of  your 
husband's  work.  We  do  not  talk  about  these  things, 
you  know,  in  the  Police,  but  we  can  appreciate  them 
all  the  same.  Superintendent  Strong's  letter  is  one 
you  would  like  to  keep.  I  shall  send  it  to  you.  Know- 
ing Superintendent  Strong  as  I  do " 

"I  know  him  too,"  said  Mandy  with  a  little  laugh. 

"Well,  then,  you  will  be  able  to  appreciate  all  the 
more  any  word  of  commendation  he  would  utter.  He 
practically  attributes  the  present  state  of  quiet  and 
the  apparent  collapse  of  this  conspiracy  business  to 
your  husband's  efforts.  This,  of  course,  is  no  com- 
pensation for  his  sufferings  or  yours,  but  I  think  it 
right  that  you  should  know. the  facts."  The  Superin- 
tendent had  risen  to  his  feet  and  had  delivered  his 
little  speech  in  his  very  finest  manner. 

' t  Thank  you, ' '  said  Mandy  simply. 

"We  had  expected  him  back  a  week  ago,"  said  the 
Inspector.  "We  know  he  must  have  had  some  serious 
cause  for  delay." 

"I  do  not  know  about  that,"  replied  Mandy,  "but 
I  do  know  he  was  most  anxious  to  go  on  to  the  fort. 
He  had  some  information  to  give,  he  said,  which  was 
of  the  first  importance.  And  I  am  glad  you  are  here. 
He  will  be  saved  that  trip,  which  would  really  be  dan- 
gerous in  his  present  condition.  And  I  don't  believe 


THE    OUTLAW  241 

I  could  have  stopped  Mm,  but  I  should  have  gone  with 
him.  His  hour  will  soon  be  up." 

" Don't  think  of  waking  him,"  said  the  Superin- 
tendent. "We  can  wait  two  hours,  or  three  hours,  or 
more  if  necessary.  Let  him  sleep." 

"IJe  would  waken  himself  if  he  were  not  so  fear- 
fully done  up.  He  has  a  trick  of  waking  at  any  hour 
he  sets,"  said  Mandy. 

A  few  minutes  later  Cameron  justified  her  remarks 
by  appearing  from  the  inner  room.  The  men,  accus- 
tomed as  they  were  to  the  ravages  of  the  winter  trail 
upon  their  comrades,  started  to  their  feet  in  horror. 
Blindly  Cameron  felt  his  way  to  them,  shading  his 
blood-shot  eyes  from  the  light.  His  face  was  blistered 
and  peeled  as  if  he  had  come  through  a  fire,  his  lips 
swollen  and  distorted,  his  hands  trembling  and  show- 
ing on  every  finger  the  marks  of  frost  bite,  and  his 
feet  dragging  as  he  shuffled  across  the  floor. 

"My  dear  fellow,  my  dear  fellow,"  cried  the  In- 
spector, springing  up  to  meet  him  and  grasping  him  by 
both  arms  to  lead  him  to  a  chair.  "You  ran  it  too 
close  that  time.  Here  is  the  Superintendent  to  lec- 
ture you.  Sit  down,  old  man,  sit  down  right  here." 
The  Inspector  deposited  him  in  the  chair,  and,  striding 
hurriedly  to  the  window,  stood  there  looking  out  upon 
the  bleak  winter  snow. 

* '  Hello,  Cameron, ' '  said  the  Superintendent,  shaking 
him  by  the  hand  with  hearty  cheerfulness.  "Glad, 
awfully  glad  to  see  you.  Fine  bit  of  work,  very 
fine  bit  of  work.  Very  complimentary  report  about 
you. ' ' 

1 1 1  don 't  know  what  you  refer  to,  sir, ' '  said  Cameron, 
speaking  thickly,  "but  I  am  glad  you  are  here,  for  I 
have, an  important  communication  to  make." 


242         THE    SUN   DANCE    TEAIL 

"Oh,  that's  all  right,"  said  the  Superintendent. 
"Don't  worry  about  that.  And  take  your  own  time. 
First  of  all,  how  are  you  feeling?  Snow-blind,  I  see," 
he  continued,  critically  examining  him, ' '  and  generally 
used  up." 

"Rather  knocked  up,"  replied  Cameron,  his  tongue 
refusing  to  move  with  its  accustomed  ease.  '  *  But  shall 
be  fit  in  a  day  or  two.  Beastly  sleepy,  but  cannot  sleep 
somehow.  Shall  feel  better  when  my  mind  is  at  rest. 
I  cannot  report  fully  just  now. ' ' 

"Oh,  let  the  report  rest.  We  know  something  al- 
ready." 

"How  is  that?" 

"Superintendent  Strong  has  sent  us  in  a  report,  and 
a  very  creditable  report,  too." 

"Oh,"  replied  Cameron  indifferently.  "Well,  the 
thing  I  want  to  say  is  that  though  all  looks  quiet- 
there  is  less  horse  stealing  this  month,  and  less  moving 
about  from  the  reserves — yet  I  believe  a  serious  out- 
break is  impending. ' ' 

The  Inspector,  who  had  come  around  and  taken  a 
seat  beside  him,  touched  his  knee  at  this  point  with  an 
admonishing  pressure. 

"Eh?"  said  Cameron,  turning  toward  him.  "Oh, 
my  people  here  know.  You  need  not  have  any  fear 
about  them."  A  little  smile  distorted  his  face  as  he 
laid  his  hand  upon  his  wife's  shoulder.  "But — where 
was  I  ?  I  cannot  get  the  hang  of  things. ' '  He  was  as  a 
man  feeling  his  way  through  a  maze. 

"Oh,  let  it  go,"  said  the  Inspector.  "Wait  till  you 
have  had  some  sleep." 

"No,  I  must — I  must  get  this  out.  Well,  anyway, 
the  principal  thing  is  that  Big  Bear,  Beardy,  Pound- 
maker — though  I  am  not  sure  about  Poundmaker — 


THE    OUTLAW  243 

have  runners  on  every  reserve  and  they  are  arrang- 
ing for  a  big  meeting  in  the  spring,  to  which  every 
tribe  North  and  West  is  to  send  representatives.  That 
Frenchman — what's  his  name? — I'll  forget  my  own 
next " 

"Riel?"  suggested  the  Inspector. 

"Yes,  Riel.  That  Frenchman  is  planning  a  big 
coup  in  the  spring.  You  know  they  presented  him  with 
a  house  the  other  day,  ready  furnished,  at  Batoche,  to 
keep  him  in  the  country.  Oh,  the  half-breeds  are  very 
keen  on  this.  And  what  is  worse,  I  believe  a  lot  of 
whites  are  in  with  them  too.  A  chap  named  Jackson, 
and  another  named  Scott,  and  Isbister  and  some 
others.  These  names  are  spoken  of  on  every  one  of  our 
reserves.  I  tell  you,  sir,"  he  said,  turning  his  blind 
eyes  toward  the  Superintendent,  "I  consider  it  very 
serious  indeed.  And  worst  of  all,  the  biggest  villain 
of  the  lot,  Little  Pine,  Cree  Chief  you  know,  our  bit- 
terest enemy — except  Little  Thunder,  who  fortunately 
is  cleared  out  of  the  country — you  remember,  sir,  that 
chap  Raven  saw  about  that." 

The  Superintendent  nodded. 

"Well — where  was  I? — Oh,  yes,  Little  Pine,  the  big- 
gest villain  of  them  all,  is  somewhere  about  here.  I 
got  word  of  him  when  I  was  at  the  Blood  Reserve  on 
my  way  home  some  ten  days  ago.  I  heard  he  was 
with  the  Blackfeet,  but  I  found  no  sign  of  him  there. 
But  he  is  in  the  neighborhood,  and  he  is  specially 
bound  to  see  old  Crowfoot.  I  understand  he  is  a  par- 
ticularly successful  pleader,  and  unusually  cunning, 
and  I  am  afraid  of  Crowfoot.  I  saw  the  old  Chief. 
He  was  very  cordial  and  is  apparently  loyal  enough 
as  yet,  but  you  know,  sir,  how  much  that  may  mean. 
I  think  that  is  all,"  said  Cameron,  putting  his  hand 


244         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

up  to  his  head.  "I  have  a  great  deal  more  to  tell 
you,  but  it  will  not  come  back  to  me  now.  Little  Pine 
must  be  attended  to,  and  for  a  day  or  two  I  am  sorry 
I  am  hardly  fit — awfully  sorry."  His  voice  sank  into 
a  kind  of  undertone. 

" Sorry?"  cried  the  Superintendent,  deeply  stirred 
at  the  sight  of  his  obvious  collapse.  " Sorry ?  Don't 
you  use  that  word  again.  You  have  nothing  to  be  sorry 
for,  but  everything  to  be  proud  of.  You  have  done  a 
great  service  to  your  country,  and  we  will  not  forget 
it.  In  a  few  days  you  will  be  fit  and  we  shall  show 
our  gratitude  by  calling  upon  you  to  do  something 
more.  Hello,  who's  that?"  A  horseman  had  ridden 
past  the  window  toward  the  stables.  Moira  ran  to 
look  out. 

"Oh!"  she  cried,  "it  is  that  Mr.  Eaven.  I  would 
know  his  splendid  horse  anywhere." 

"Eaven!"  said  Cameron  sharply  and  wide  awake. 

"Eaven,  by  Jove!"  muttered  the  Inspector. 

"Eaven!  Well,  I  call  that  cool!"  said  the  Super- 
intendent, a  hard  look  upon  his  face. 

But  the  laws  of  hospitality  are  nowhere  so  impera- 
tive as  on  the  western  plains.  Cameron  rose  from 
his  chair  muttering,  "Must  look  after  his  horse." 

"You  sit  down,"  said  Mandy  firmly.  "You  are  not 
going  out." 

"Well,  hardly,"  said  the  Inspector.  "Here,  Jerry, 
go  and  show  him  where  to  get  things,  and—  He 

hesitated. 

"Bring  him  in,"  cried  Mandy  heartily.  The  men 
stood  silent,  looking  at  Cameron. 

"Certainly,  bring  him  in,"  he  said  firmly,  "a  day 
like  this,"  he  added,  as  if  in  apology. 

"Why,  of  course,"  cried  Mandy,  looking  from  one 


THE    OUTLAW  245 

to  the  other  in  surprise.  "Why  not?  He  is  a  per- 
fectly splendid  man." 

"Oh,  he  is  really  splendid!"  replied  Moira,  her 
cheeks  burning  and  her  eyes  flashing.  "You  remem- 
ber," she  cried,  addressing  the  Inspector,  "how  he 
saved  my  life  the  day  I  arrived  at  this  ranch. ' ' 

"Oh,  yes,"  replied  the  Inspector  briefly,  "I  believe 
I  did  hear  that."  But  there  was  little  enthusiasm  in 
his  voice. 

' '  Well,  I  think  he  is  splendid, ' '  repeated  Moira.  * '  Do 
not  you  think  so?" 

The  Inspector  had  an  awkward  moment. 

"Eh? — well — I  can't  say  I  know  him  very  well." 

"And  his  horse!  What  a  beauty  it  is!"  continued 
the  girl. 

"Ah,  yes,  a  most  beautiful  animal,  quite  remarka- 
ble horse,  splendid  horse;  in  fact  one  of  the  finest,  if 
not  the  very  finest,  in  this  whole  country.  And  that 
is  saying  a  good  deal,  too,  Miss  Moira.  You  see,  this 
country  breeds  good  horses."  And  the  Inspector  went 
on  to  discourse  in  full  detail  and  with  elaborate  illus- 
tration upon  the  various  breeds  of  horses  the  country 
could  produce,  and  to  classify  the  wonderful  black 
stallion  ridden  by  Raven,  and  all  with  such  diligence 
and  enthusiasm  that  no  other  of  the  party  had  an  op- 
portunity to  take  part  in  the  conversation  till  Raven, 
in  the  convoy  of  Jerry,  was  seen  approaching  the 
house.  Then  the  Superintendent  rose. 

"Well,  Mrs.  Cameron,  I  fear  we  must  take  our  de- 
parture. These  are  rather  crowded  days  with  us." 

"What?"  exclaimed  Mandy.  "Within  an  hour  of 
dinner?  We  can  hardly  allow  that,  you  know.  Be- 
sides, Mr.  Cameron  wants  to  have  a  great  deal  more 
talk  with  you." 


246          THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

The  Superintendent  attempted  to  set  forth  various 
other  reasons  for  a  hasty  departure,  but  they  all 
seemed  to  lack  sincerity,  and  after  a  few  more  inef- 
fective trials  he  surrendered  and  sat  down  again  in 
silence. 

The  next  moment  the  door  opened  and  Eaven,  fol- 
lowed by  Jerry,  stepped  into  the  room.  As  his  eye  fell 
upon  the  Superintendent,  instinctively  he  dropped  his 
hands  to  his  hips  and  made  an  involuntary  movement 
backward,  but  only  for  an  instant.  Immediately  he 
came  forward  and  greeted  Mandy  with  fine,  old-fash- 
ioned courtesy. 

1  *  So  delighted  to  meet  you  again,  Mrs.  Cameron,  and 
also  to  meet  your  charming  sister."  He  shook  hands 
with  both  the  ladies  very  warmly.  "Ah,  Superin- 
tendent," he  continued,  "delighted  to  see  you.  And 
you,  Inspector,"  he  said,  giving  them  a  nod  as  he 
laid  off  his  outer  leather  riding  coat.  "Hope  I  see 
you  flourishing, ' '  he  continued.  His  debonair  manner 
had  in  it  a  quizzical  touch  of  humor.  "Ah,  Cameron, 
home  again  I  see.  I  came  across  your  tracks  the  other 
day." 

The  men,  who  had  risen  to  their  feet  upon  his  en- 
trance, stood  regarding  him  stiffly  and  made  no  other 
sign  of  recognition  than  a  curt  nod  and  a  single  word 
of  greeting. 

"You  have  had  quite  a  trip,"  he  continued,  address- 
ing himself  to  Cameron,  and  taking  the  chair  offered 
by  Mandy.  ' '  I  followed  you  part  way,  but  you  travel 
too  fast  for  me.  Much  too  strenuous  work  I  found  it. 
Why,"  he  continued,  looking  narrowly  at  Cameron, 
' '  you  are  badly  punished.  When  did  you  get  in  f " 

"Two  hours  ago,  Mr.  Raven,"  said  Mandy  quickly, 


THE    OUTLAW  247 

for  her  husband  sat  gazing  stupidly  into  the  fire. 
"And  he  is  quite  done  up." 

"Two  hours  ago?"  exclaimed  Eaven  in  utter  sur- 
prise. "Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  have  been  trav- 
eling these  last  three  days  1 ' ' 

Cameron  nodded. 

"Why,  my  dear  sir,  not  even  the  Indians  face  such 
cold.  Only  the  Mounted  Police  venture  out  in  weather 
like  this — and  those  who  want  to  get  away  from  them. 
Ha!  ha!  Eh?  Inspector?  Ha!  ha!"  Kis  gay,  care- 
less laugh  rang  out  in  the  most  cheery  fashion.  But 
only  the  ladies  joined.  The  men  stood  grimly  silent. 

Mandy  could  not  understand  their  grim  and  gloomy 
silence.  By  her  cordiality  she  sought  to  cover  up  and 
atone  for  the  studied  and  almost  insulting  indifference 
of  her  husband  and  her  other  guests.  In  these  at- 
tempts she  was  loyally  supported  by  her  sister-in- 
law,  whose  anger  was  roused  by  the  all  too  obvious 
efforts  on  the  part  of  her  brother  and  his  friends  to 
ignore  this  stranger,  if  not  to  treat  him  with  contempt. 
There  was  nothing  in  Raven's  manner  to  indicate  that 
he  observed  anything  amiss  in  the  bearing  of  the  male 
members  of  the  company  about  the  fire.  He  met  the 
attempt  of  the  ladies  at  conversation  with  a  brilliancy 
of  effort  that  quite  captivated  them,  and,  in  spite  of 
themselves,  drew  the  Superintendent  and  the  Inspector 
into  the  flow  of  talk. 

As  the  hour  of  the  midday  meal  approached  Mandy 
rose  from  her  place  by  the  fire  and  said: 

"You  will  stay  with  us  to  dinner,  Mr.  Eaven?  We 
dine  at  midday.  It  is  not  often  we  have  such  a  dis- 
tinguished and  interesting  company." 

"Thank  you,  no,"  said  Eaven.    "I  merely  looked  in 


248         THE    SUN   DANCE    TEAIL 

to  give  your  husband  a  bit  of  interesting  information. 
And,  by  the  way,  I  have  a  bit  of  information  that  might 
interest  the  Superintendent  as  well." 

"Well,"  said  Mandy,  "we  are  to  have  the  pleasure 
of  the  Superintendent  and  the  Inspector  to  dinner  with 
us  to-day,  and  you  can  give  them  all  the  information 
you  think  necessary  while  you  are  waiting." 

Eaven  hesitated  while  he  glanced  at  the  faces  of  the 
men  beside  him.  What  he  read  there  drew  from  him  a 
little  hard  smile  of  amused  contempt. 

"Please  do  not  ask  me  again,  Mrs.  Cameron,"  he 
said.  "You  know  not  how  you  strain  my  powers  of 
resistance  when  I  really  dare  not — may  not,"  he  cor- 
rected himself  with  a  quick  glance  at  the  Superin- 
tendent, "stay  in  this  most  interesting  company  and 
enjoy  your  most  grateful  hospitality  any  longer.  And 
now  my  information  is  soon  given.  First  of  all  for 
you,  Cameron — I  shall  not  apologize  to  you,  Mrs.  Cam- 
eron, for  delivering  it  in  your  presence.  I  do  you 
the  honor  to  believe  that  you  ought  to  know — briefly 
my  information  is  this.  Little  Pine,  in  whose  move- 
ments you  are  all  interested,  I  understand,  is  at  this 
present  moment  lodging  with  the  Sarcee  Indians,  and 
next  week  will  move  on  to  visit  old  Crowfoot.  The 
Sarcee  visit  amounts  to  little,  but  the  visit  to  old 
Crowfoot — well,  I  need  say  no  more  to  you,  Cameron. 
Probably  you  know  more  about  the  inside  workings  of 
old  Crowfoot's  mind  than  I  do." 

"Visiting  Crowfoot?"  exclaimed  Cameron.  "Then 
I  was  there  too  soon." 

'  *  That  is  his  present  intention,  and  I  have  no  doubt 
the  program  will  be  carried  out,"  said  Eaven.  "My 
information  is  from  the  inside.  Of  course,"  he  con- 
tinued, "I  know  you  have  run  across  the  trail  of  the 


THE    OUTLAW  249 

North  Cree  and  Salteaux  runners  from  Big  Bear  and 
Beardy.  They  are  not  to  be  despised.  But  Little  Pine 
is  a  different  person  from  these  gentlemen.  The  big 
game  is  scheduled  for  the  early  spring,  will  probably 
come  off  in  about  six  weeks.  And  now, ' '  he  said,  rising 
from  his  chair,  "I  must  be  off." 

At  this  point  Smith  came  in  and  quietly  took  a  seat 
beside  Jerry  near  the  door. 

"And  what's  your  information  for  me,  Mr.  Raven?" 
inquired  the  Superintendent.  "You  are  not  going  to 
deprive  me  of  my  bit  of  news?" 

"Ah,  yes — news,"  replied  Eaven,  sitting  down 
again.  "Briefly  this.  Little  Thunder  has  yielded  to 
some  powerful  pressure  and  has  again  found  it  neces- 
sary to  visit  this  country,  I  need  hardly  add,  against 
my  desire." 

"Little  Thunder?"  exclaimed  the  Superintendent, 
and  his  tone  indicated  something  more  than  surprise. 
' '  Then  there  will  be  something  doing.  And  where  does 
this — ah — this — ah — friend  of  yours  propose  to  locate 
himself?" 

"This  friend  of  mine,"  replied  Raven,  with  a  hard 
gleam  in  his  eye  and  a  bitter  smile  curling  his  lips, 
"who  would  gladly  adorn  his  person  with  my  scalp  if 
he  might,  will  not  ask  my  opinion  as  to  his  location,  and 
probably  not  yours  either,  Mr.  Superintendent."  As 
Raven  ceased  speaking  he  once  more  rose  from  his 
chair,  put  on  his  leather  riding  coat  and  took  up  his 
cap  and  gauntlets.  "Farewell,  Mrs  Cameron,"  he 
said,  offering  her  his  hand.  "Believe  me,  it  has  been 
a  rare  treat  to  see  you  and  to  sit  by  your  fireside  for 
one  brief  half-hour. ' ' 

' '  Oh,  but  Mr.  Raven,  you  are  not  to  think  of  leaving 
us  before  dinner.  Why  this  haste?" 


250         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

"The  trail  I  take,"  said  Eaven  in  a  grave  voice,  "is 
full  of  pitfalls  and  I  must  take  it  when  I  can.  The 
Superintendent  knows,"  he  added.  But  his  smile 
awoke  no  response  in  the  Superintendent,  who  sat 
rigidly  silent. 

"It's  a  mighty  cold  day  outside,"  interjected  Smith, 
"and  blowing  up  something  I  think." 

"Oh,  hang  it,  Eaven!"  blurted  out  Cameron,  who 
sat  stupidly  gazing-into  the  fire,  "Stay  and  eat.  This 
is  no  kind  of  day  to  go  out  hungry.  It  is  too  beastly 
cold." 

"Thanks,  Cameron,  it  is  a  cold  day,  too  cold  to 
stay." 

"Do  stay,  Mr.  Eaven,"  pleaded  Moira. 

He  turned  swiftly  and  looked  into  her  soft  brown 
eyes  now  filled  with  warm  kindly  light. 

"Alas,  Miss  Cameron,"  he  replied  in  a  low  voice, 
turning  his  back  upon  the  others,  his  voice  and  his 
attitude  seeming  to  isolate  the  girl  from  the  rest  of  the 
company,  "believe  me,  if  I  do  not  stay  it  is  not  be- 
cause I  do  not  want  to,  but  because  I  cannot." 

"You  cannot?"  echoed  Moira  in  an  equally  low  tone. 

"I  cannot,"  he  replied.  Then,  raising  his  voice, 
"Ask  the  Superintendent.  He  knows  that  I  cannot." 

"Do  you  know?"  said  Moira,  turning  upon  the  Su- 
perintendent, "What  does  he  mean?" 

The  Superintendent  rose  angrily. 

1 1  Mr.  Eaven  chooses  to  be  mysterious, ' '  he  said.  *  *  If 
he  cannot  remain  here  he  knows  why  without  appealing 
to  me." 

"Ah,  my  dear  Superintendent,  how  unfeeling!  You 
hardly  do  yourself  justice, ' '  said  Eaven,  proceeding  to 
draw  on  his  gloves.  His  drawling  voice  seemed  to 
irritate  the  Superintendent  beyond  control. 


THE   OUTLAW  251 

"Justice?"  he  exclaimed  sharply.  "Justice  is  a 
word  you  should  hesitate  to  use." 

"You  see,  Miss  Cameron,"  said  Eaven  with  an  in- 
jured air,  "why  I  cannot  remain." 

"No,  I  do  not!"  cried  Moira  in  hot  indignation.  "I 
do  not  see,"  she  repeated,  "and  if  the  Superintendent 
does  I  think  he  should  explain."  Her  voice  rang  out 
sharp  and  clear.  It  wakened  her  brother  as  if  from 
a  daze. 

*  *  Tut,  tut,  Moira ! "  he  exclaimed.  l '  Do  not  interfere 
where  you  do  not  understand." 

"Then  why  make  insinuations  that  cannot  be  ex- 
plained?" cried  his  sister,  standing  up  very  straight 
and  looking  the  Superintendent  fair  in  the  face. 

"Explained?"  echoed  the  Superintendent  in  a  cool, 
almost  contemptuous,  voice.  ' '  There  are  certain  things 
best  not  explained,  but  believe  me  if  Mr.  Eaven  desires 
explanation  he  can  have  it." 

The  men  were  all  on  their  feet.  Quickly  Moira 
turned  to  Eaven  with  a  gesture  of  appeal  and  a  look 
of  loyal  confidence  in  her  eyes.  For  a  monrnt  the 
hard,  cynical  face  was  illumined  with  a  smile  of  rare 
beauty,  but  only  for  a  moment.  The  gleam  passed  and 
the  old,  hard,  cynical  face  turned  in  challenge  to  the 
Superintendent. 

"Explain!"  he  said  bitterly,  defiantly.  "Go  on  if 
you  can." 

The  Superintendent  stood  silent. 

"Ah!"  breathed  Moira,  a  thrill  of  triumphant  relief 
in  her  voice,  * '  he  cannot  explain. ' ' 

"With  dramatic  swiftness  the  explanation  came.  It 
was  from  Jerry. 

"H 'explain?"  cried  the  little  half-breed,  quivering 
with  rage.  "H'explaiii?  What  for  he  can  no  h'ex- 


252         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

plain?  Dem  horse  he  steal  de  night-tarn' — dat  whiskee 
he  trade  on  de  Indian.  Bah!  He  no  good — he  one 
beeg  tief.  Me — -I  put  him  one  sure  place  he  no  steal 
no  more!" 

A  few  moments  of  tense  silence  held  the  group  rigid. 
In  the  center  stood  Raven,  his  face  pale,  hard,  but 
smiling,  before  him  Moira,  waiting,  eager,  with  lips 
parted  and  eyes  aglow  with  successive  passions,  in- 
dignation, doubt,  fear,  horror,  grief.  Again  that  swift 
and  subtle  change  touched  Raven's  face  as  his  eyes 
rested  upon  the  face  of  the  girl  before  him. 

"Now  you  know  why  I  cannot  stay,"  he  said  gently, 
almost  sadly. 

"It  is  not  true,"  murmured  Moira,  piteous  appeal 
in  voice  and  eyes.  A  spasm  crossed  the  pale  face  upon 
which  her  eyes  rested,  then  the  old  cynical  look  re- 
turned. 

"Once  more,  thank  you,  Mrs.  Cameron,"  he  said 
with  a  bow  to  Mandy, '  *  for  a  happy  half -hour  by  your 
fireside,  and  farewell." 

"Good-by,"  said  Mandy  sadly. 

He  turned  to  Moira. 

"Oh,  good-by,  good-by,"  cried  the  girl  impulsively, 
reaching  out  her  hand. 

1 '  Good-by, ' '  he  said  simply.  '  *  I  shall  not  forget  that 
you  were  kind  to  me."  He  bent  low  before  her,  but 
did  not  touch  her  oustretched  hand.  As  he  turned 
toward  the  door  Jerry  slipped  in  before  him. 

"You  let  him  go?"  he  cried  excitedly,  looking  at 
the  Superintendent ;  but  before  the  latter  could  answer 
a  hand  caught  him  by  the  coat  collar  and  with  a  swift 
jerk  landed  him  on  the  floor.  It  was  Smith,  his  face 
furiously  red.  Before  Jerry  could  recover  himself 
Raven  had  opened  the  door  and  passed  out. 


THE    OUTLAW  253 

"Oh,  how  awful!"  said  Mandy  in  a  hushed,  broken 
voice. 

Moira  stood  for  a  moment  as  if  dazed,  then  sud- 
denly turned  to  Smith  and  said: 

"Thank  you.     That  was  well  done." 

And  Smith,  red  to  his  hair  roots,  murmured,  "You 
wanted  him  to  go?" 

"Yes,"  said  Moira,  "I  wanted  him  to  go." 


254         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 
CHAPTER   XVI 

WAR 

COMMISSIONER  IRVINE  sat  in  his  office  at 
headquarters  in  the  little  town  of  Regina,  the 
capital  of  the  North  West  Territories  of  the 
Dominion.  A  number  of  telegrams  lay  before  him  on 
the  table.  A  look  of  grave  anxiety  was  on  his  face. 
The  cause  of  his  anxiety  was  to  be  found  in  the  news 
contained  in  the  telegrams.  An  orderly  stood  behind 
his  chair. 

"Send  Inspector  Sanders  to  me!"  commanded  the 
Commissioner. 

The  orderly  saluted  and  retired. 

In  a  few  moments  Inspector  Sanders  made  his  ap- 
pearance, a  tall,  soldierlike  man,  trim  in  appearance, 
prompt  in  movement  and  somewhat  formal  in  speech. 

"Well,  the  thing  has  come,"  said  the  Commissioner, 
handing  Inspector  Sanders  one  of  the  telegrams  be- 
fore him.  Inspector  Sanders  took  the  wire,  read  it 
and  stood  very  erect 

"Looks  like  it,  sir,"  he  replied.  "You  always  said 
it  would." 

"It  is  just  eight  months  since  I  first  warned  the 
Government  that  trouble  would  come.  Superintendent 
Crozier  knows  the  situation  thoroughly  and  would  not 
have  sent  this  wire  if  outbreak  were  not  imminent. 
Then  here  is  one  from  Superintendent  Gagnon  at 
Carlton.  He  also  is  a  careful  man." 

Inspector  Sanders  gravely  read  the  second  telegram. 

"We  ought  to  have  five  hundred  men  on  the  spot 
this  minute,"  he  said. 

"I  have  asked  that  a  hundred  men  be  sent  up  at 


WAR  255 

once,"  said  the  Commissioner,  "but  I  am  doubtful 
if  we  can  get  the  Government  to  agree.  It  seems 
almost  impossible  to  make  the  authorities  feel  the 
gravity  of  the  situation.  They  cannot  realize,  for 
one  thing,  the  enormous  distances  that  separate  points 
that  look  comparatively  near  together  upon  the  map. ' ' 
He  spread  a  map  out  upon  the  table.  "And  yet,"  he 
continued,  "they  have  these  maps  before  them,  and 
the  figures,  but  somehow  the  facts  do  not  impress 
them.  Look  at  this  vast  area  lying  between  these  four 
posts  that  form  an  almost  perfect  quadrilateral.  Here 
is  the  north  line  running  from  Edmonton  at  the  north- 
west corner  to  Prince  Albert  at  the  northeast,  nearly 
four  hundred  miles  away;  then  here  is  the  south  line 
running  from  Macleod  at  the  southwest  four  hundred 
and  fifty  miles  to  Regina  at  the  southeast;  while  the 
sides  of  this  quadrilateral  are  nearly  three  hundred 
miles  long.  Thus  the  four  posts  forming  our  quadri- 
lateral are  four  hundred  miles  apart  one  way  by  three 
hundred  another,  and,  if  we  run  the  lines  down  to  the 
boundary  and  to  the  limit  of  the  territory  which  we 
patrol,  the  disturbed  area  may  come  to  be  about  five 
hundred  miles  by  six  hundred ;  and  we  have  some  five 
hundred  men  available." 

"It  is  a  good  thing  we  have  established  the  new 
post  at  Carlton,"  suggested  Inspector  Sanders. 

"Ah,  yes,  there  is  Carlton.  It  is  true  we  have 
strengthened  up  that  district  recently  with  two  hun- 
dred men  distributed  between  Battleford,  Prince  Al- 
bert, Fort  Pitt  and  Fort  Carlton.  But  Carlton  is  nat- 
urally a  very  weak  post  and  is  practically  of  little  use 
to  us.  True,  it  guards  us  against  those  Willow  Crees 
and  acts  as  a  check  upon  old  Beardy." 

"A  troublesome  man,  that  Kah-me-yes-too-waegs — 


256         THE    SUN   DANCE    TEAIL 

old  Beardy,  I  mean.  It  took  me  some  time  to  master 
that  one,"  said  Inspector  Sanders,  "but  then  I  have 
studied  German.  He  always  has  been  a  nuisance," 
continued  the  Inspector.  "He  was  a  groucher  when 
the  treaty  was  made  in  '76  and  he  has  been  a  groucher 
ever  since." 

"  If  we  only  had  the  men,  just  another  five  hundred, ' ' 
replied  the  Commissioner,  tapping  the  map  before 
him  with  his  finger,  "we  should  hold  this  country  safe. 
But  what  with  these  restless  half-breeds  led  by  this 
crack-brained  Eiel,  and  these  ten  thousand  In- 
dians  " 

"Not  to  speak  of  a  couple  of  thousand  non- treaty 
Indians  roaming  the  country  and  stirring  up  trouble, ' ' 
interjected  the  Inspector. 

"True  enough,"  replied  the  Commissioner,  "but  I 
would  have  no  fear  of  the  Indians  were  it  not  for 
these  half-breeds.  They  have  real  grievances,  remem- 
ber, Sanders,  real  grievances,  and  that  gives  force 
to  their  quarrel  and  cohesion  to  the  movement.  Men 
who  have  a  conviction  that  they  are  suffering  injustice 
are  not  easily  turned  aside.  And  these  men  can  fight. 
They  ride  hard  and  shoot  straight  and  are  afraid  of 
nothing.  I  confess  frankly  it  looks  very  serious  to 
me." 

"For  my  part,"  said  Inspector  Sanders,  "it  is  the 
Indians  I  fear  most." 

"The  Indians!"  said  the  Commissioner.  "Yes,  if 
once  they  rise.  Really,  one  wonders  at  the  docility 
of  the  Indians,  and  their  response  to  fair  and  decent 
treatment.  Why,  just  think  of  it !  Twenty  years  ago, 
no,  fifteen  years  ago,  less  than  fifteen  years  ago,  these 
Indians  whom  we  have  been  holding  in  our  hand  so 
quietly  were  roaming  these  plains,  living  like  lords  on 


WAR  257 

the  buffalo  and  fighting  like  fiends  with  each  other, 
free  from  all  control.  Little  wonder  if,  now  feeling  the 
pinch  of  famine,  fretting  under  the  monotony  of  pas- 
toral life,  and  being  incited  to  war  by  the  hot-blooded 
half-breeds,  they  should  break  out  in  rebellion.  And 
what  is  there  to  hold  them  back?  Just  this,  a  feeling 
that  they  have  been  justly  treated,  fairly  and  justly 
dealt  with  by  the  Government,  and  a  wholesome  respect 
for  Her  Majesty's  North  West  Mounted  Police,  if  I  do 
say  it  myself.  But  the  thing  is  on,  and  we  must  be 
ready. ' ' 

"What  is  to  be  done,  sir?"  inquired  Sanders. 

"Well,  thank  God,  there  is  not  much  to  be  done  in 
the  way  of  preparation,"  replied  the  Commissioner. 
"Our  fellows  are  ready  to  a  man.  For  the  past  six 
months  we  have  been  on  the  alert  for  this  emergency, 
but  we  must  strike  promptly.  When  I  think  of  these 
settlers  about  Prince  Albert  and  Battleford  at  the 
mercy  of  Beardy  and  that  restless  and  treacherous 
Salteaux,  Big  Bear,  I  confess  to  a  terrible  anxiety. ' ' 

1 '  Then  there  is  the  West,  sir,  as  well, ' '  said  Sanders, 
"the  Blackfeet  and  the  Bloods." 

"Ah,  yes,  Sanders!  You  know  them  well.  So  do  1. 
It  is  a  great  matter  that  Crowfoot  is  well  disposed 
toward  us,  that  he  has  confidence  in  our  officers  and 
that  he  is  a  shrewd  old  party  as  well.  But  Crowfoot 
is  an  Indian  and  the  head  of  a  great  tribe  with  war- 
like traditions  and  with  ambitions,  and  he  will  find  it 
difficult  to  maintain  his  own  loyalty,  and  much  more 
that  of  his  young  men,  in  the  face  of  any  conspicuous 
successes  by  his  Indian  rivals,  the  Crees.  But,"  added 
the  Commissioner,  rolling  up  the  map,  "I  called  you 
in  principally  to  say  that  I  wish  you  to  have  every 
available  man  and  gun  ready  for  a  march  at  a  day's 


258         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

notice.  Further,  I  wish  you  to  wire  Superintendent 
Herchmer  at  Calgary  to  send  at  the  earliest  possible 
moment. twenty-five  men  at  least,  fully  equipped.  We 
shall  need  every  man  we  can  spare  from  every  post 
in  the  West  to  send  North." 

"Very  good,  sir.  They  will  be  ready,"  said  In- 
spector Sanders,  and,  saluting,  he  left  the  room. 

Two  days  later,  on  the  18th  of  March,  long  before 
the  break  of  day,  the  Commissioner  set  out  on  his 
famous  march  to  Prince  Albert,  nearly  three  hundred 
miles  away.  And  the  great  game  was  on.  They  were 
but  a  small  company  of  ninety  men,  but  every  man  was 
thoroughly  fit  for  the  part  he  was  expected  to  play  in 
the  momentous  struggle  before  him ;  brave,  of  course, 
trained  in  prompt  initiative,  skilled  in  plaincraft,  in- 
ured to  hardship,  oblivious  of  danger,  quick  of  eye, 
sure  of  hand  and  rejoicing  in  fight.  Commissioner 
Irvine  knew  he  could  depend  upon  them  to  see  through 
to  a  finish,  to  their  last  ounce  of  strength  and  their 
last  blood-drop,  any  bit  of  work  given  them  to  do. 
Past  Pie-a-pot's  Reserve  and  down  the  Qu'Appelle 
Valley  to  Misquopetong's,  through  the  Touchwood 
Hills  and  across  the  great  Salt  Plain,  where  he  had 
word  by  wire  from  Crozier  of  the  first  blow  being 
struck  at  the  south  branch  of  the  Saskatchewan  where 
some  of  Beardy's  men  gave  promise  of  their  future 
conduct  by  looting  a  store,  Irvine  pressed  his  march. 
Onward  along  the  Saskatchewan,  he  avoided  the  trap 
laid  by  four  hundred  half-breeds  at  Batoche's  Cross- 
ing, and,  making  the  crossing  at  Agnew's,  further 
down,  arrived  at  Prince  Albert  all  fit  and  sound  on  the 
eve  of  the  24th,  completing  his  two  hundred  and  ninety- 
one  miles  in  just  seven  days ;  and  that  in  the  teeth  of 
the  bitter  weather  of  a  rejuvenated  winter,  without 


W  A  E  259 

loss  of  man  or  horse,  a  feat  worthy  of  the  traditions 
of  the  Force  of  which  he  was  the  head,  and  of  the 
Empire  whose  most  northern  frontier  it  was  his  task 
to  guard. 

Twenty-four  hours  to  sharpen  their  horses'  calks 
and  tighten  up  their  cinches,  and  Irvine  was  on  the 
trail  again  en  route  for  Fort  Carlton,  where  he  learned 
serious  disturbances  were  threatening.  Arrived  at 
Fort  Carlton  in  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day,  the 
Commissioner  found  there  a  company  of  men,  sad, 
grim  and  gloomy.  In  the  fort  a  dozen  of  the  gallant 
volunteers  from  Prince  Albert  and  Crozier's  Mounted 
Police  lay  groaning,  some  of  them  dying,  with  wounds. 
Others  lay  with  their  faces  covered,  quiet  enough; 
while  far  down  on  the  Duck  Lake  trail  still  others  lay 
with  the  white  snow  red  about  them.  The  story  was 
told  the  Commissioner  with  soldierlike  brevity  by  Su- 
perintendent Crozier.  The  previous  day  a  storekeeper 
from  Duck  Lake,  Mitchell  by  name,  had  ridden  in  to 
report  that  his  stock  of  provisions  and  ammunition 
was  about  to  be  seized  by  the  rebels.  Immediately 
early  next  morning  a  Sergeant  of  the  Police  with 
some  seventeen  constables  had  driven  off  to  prevent 
these  provisions  and  ammunition  falling  into  the  hands 
of  the  enemy.  At  ten  o'clock  a  scout  came  pounding 
down  the  trail  with  the  anouncement  that  Sergeant 
Stewart  was  in  trouble  and  that  a  hundred  rebels  had 
disputed  his  advance.  Hard  upon  the  heels  of  the 
scout  came  the  Sergeant  himself  with  his  constables 
to  tell  their  tale  to  a  body  of  men  whose  wrath  grew 
as  they  listened.  More  and  more  furious  waxed  their 
rage  as  they  heard  the  constables  tell  of  the  threats 
and  insults  heaped  upon  them  by  the  half-breeds  and 
Indians.  The  Prince  Albert  volunteers  more  especially 


260         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

were  filled  with  indignant  rage.  To  think  that  half- 
breeds  and  Indians — Indians,  mark  you! — whom  they 
had  been  accustomed  to  regard  with  contempt,  should 
have  dared  to  turn  back  upon  the  open  trail  a  com- 
pany of  men  wearing  the  Queen's  uniform !  The  insult 
was  intolerable. 

The  Police  officers  received  the  news  with  philo- 
sophic calm.  It  was  merely  an  incident  in  the  day's 
work  to  them.  Sooner  or  later  they  would  bring  these 
bullying  half-breeds  and  yelling  Indians  to  task  for 
their  temerity. 

But  the  volunteers  were  undisciplined  in  the  busi- 
ness of  receiving  insults.  Hence  they  were  for  an 
immediate  attack.  The  Superintendent  pointed  out 
that  the  Commissioner  was  within  touch  bringing  rein- 
forcements. It  might  be  wise  to  delay  matters  a  few 
hours  till  his  arrival.  But  meantime  the  provisions 
and  ammunition  would  be  looted  and  distributed 
among  the  enemy,  and  that  was  a  serious  matter.  The 
impetuous  spirit  of  the  volunteers  prevailed.  Within 
an  hour  a  hundred  men  with  a  seven-pr.  gun,  eager 
to  exact  punishment  for  the  insults  they  had  suffered, 
took  the  Duck  Lake  trail.  Ambushed  by  a  foe  who, 
regardless  of  the  conventions  of  war,  made  treacher- 
ous use  of  the  white  flag,  overwhelmed  by  more  than 
twice  their  number,  hampered  in  their  evolutions  by 
the  deep  crusted  snow,  the  little  company,  after  a 
half -hour's  sharp  engagement  with  the  strongly  posted 
enemy,  were  forced  to  retire,  bearing  their  wounded 
and  some  of  their  dead  with  them,  leaving  others  of 
their  dead  lying  in  the  snow  behind  them. 

And  now  the  question  was  what  was  to  be  done? 
The  events  of  the  day  had  taught  them  their  lesson,  a 
lesson  that  experience  has  taught  all  soldiers,  the  les- 


WAR  261 

son,  namely,  that  it  is  never  safe  to  despise  a  foe.  A 
few  miles  away  from  them  were  between  three  hun- 
dred and  four  hundred  half-breeds  and  Indians  who, 
having  tasted  blood,  were  eager  for  more.  The  fort 
at  Carlton  was  almost  impossible  of  defense.  The 
whole  South  country  was  in  the  hands  of  rebels.  Com- 
panies of  half-breeds  breathing  blood  and  fire,  bands 
of  Indians,  marauding  and  terrorizing,  were  roaming 
the  country,  wrecking  homesteads,  looting  stores, 
threatening  destruction  to  all  loyal  settlers  and  direst 
vengeance  upon  all  who  should  dare  to  oppose  them. 
The  situation  called  for  quick  thought  and  quick  action. 
Every  hour  added  to  the  number  of  the  enemy.  "Whole 
tribes  of  Indians  were  wavering  in  their  allegiance. 
Another  victory  such  as  Duck  Lake  and  they  would 
swing  to  the  side  of  the  rebels.  The  strategic  center 
of  the  English  settlements  in  all  this  country  was 
undoubtedly  Prince  Albert.  Fort  Carlton  stood  close 
to  the  border  of  the  half-breed  section  and  was  diffi- 
cult of  defense. 

After  a  short  council  of  war  it  was  decided  to  aban- 
don Fort  Carlton.  Thereupon  Irvine  led  his  troops, 
together  with  the  gallant  survivors  of  the  bloody  fight 
at  Duck  Lake,  bearing  their  dead  and  wounded  with 
them,  to  Prince  Albert,  there  to  hold  that  post  with  its 
hundreds  of  defenseless  women  and  children  gathered 
in  from  the  country  round  about,  against  hostile  half- 
breeds  without  and  treacherous  half-breeds  within 
the  stockade,  and  against  swarming  bands  of  Indians 
hungry  for  loot  and  thirsting  for  blood.  And  there 
Irvine,  chafing  against  inactivity,  eager  for  the  joyous 
privilege  of  attack,  spent  the  weary  anxious  days  of 
the  next  six  weeks,  held  at  his  post  by  the  orders  of 
his  superior  officer  and  by  the  stern  necessities  of  the 


262         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

case,  and  meantime  finding  some  slight  satisfaction  in 
scouting  and  scouring  the  country  for  miles  on  every 
side,  thus  preventing  any  massing  of  the  enemy's 
forces. 

The  affair  at  Duck  Lake  put  an  end  to  all  parley. 
Eiel  had  been  clamoring  for  ''blood!  blood!  blood!" 
At  Duck  Lake  he  received  his  first  taste,  but  before 
many  days  were  over  he  was  to  find  that  for  every  drop 
of  blood  that  reddened  the  crusted  snow  at  Duck  Lake 
a  thousand  Canadian  voices  would  indignantly  demand 
vengeance.  The  rifle-shots  that  rang  out  that  winter 
day  from  the  bluffs  that  lined  the  Duck  Lake  trail 
echoed  throughout  Canada  from  ocean  to  ocean,  and 
everywhere  men  sprang  to  offer  themselves  in  defense 
of  their  country.  But  echoes  of  these  rifle-shots  rang, 
too,  in  the  teepees  on  the  Western  plains  where  the 
Piegans,  the  Bloods  and  the  Blackfeet  lay  crouching 
and  listening.  By  some  mysterious  system  of  telegra- 
phy known  only  to  themselves  old  Crowfoot  and  his 
braves  heard  them  almost  as  soon  as  the  Superintend- 
ent at  Fort  Macleod.  Instantly  every  teepee  was  puls- 
ing with  the  fever  of  war.  The  young  braves  dug  up 
their  rifles  from  their  bedding,  gathered  together  their 
ammunition,  sharpened  their  knives  and  tomahawks 
in  eager  anticipation  of  the  call  that  would  set  them 
on  the  war-path  against  the  white  man  who  had  robbed 
them  of  their  ancient  patrimony  and  who  held  them  in 
such  close  leash.  The  great  day  had  come,  the  day 
they  had  been  dreaming  of  in  their  hearts,  talking 
over  at  their  council-fires  and  singing  about  in  their 
sun  dances  during  the  past  year,  the  day  promised  by 
the  many  runners  from  their  brother  Crees  of  the 
North,  the  day  foretold  by  the  great  Sioux  orator  and 
leader,  Onawata.  The  war  of  extermination  had  be- 


WAR  263 

gun  and  the  first  blood  had  gone  to  the  Indian  and  to 
his  brother  half-breed. 

Two  days  after  Duck  Lake  came  the  word  that  Fort 
Carlton  had  been  abandoned  and  Battleford  sacked. 
Five  days  later  the  news  of  the  bloody  massacre  of 
Frog  Lake  cast  over  every  English  settlement  the 
shadow  of  a  horrible  fear.  From  the  Crow's  Nest  to 
the  Blackfoot  Crossing  bands  of  braves  broke  loose 
from  the  reserves  and  began  to  "drive  cattle"  for 
the  making  of  pemmican  in  preparation  for  the  coming 
campaign. 

It  was  a  day  of  testing  for  all  Canadians,  but  espe- 
cially a  day  of  testing  for  the  gallant  little  force  of 
six  or  seven  hundred  riders  who,  distributed  in  small 
groups  over  a  vast  area  of  over  two  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand  square  miles,  were  entrusted  with  the  re- 
sponsibility of  guarding  the  lives  and  property  of  Her 
Majesty's  subjects  scattered  in  lonely  and  distant 
settlements  over  these  wide  plains. 

And  the  testing  found  them  ready.  For  while  the 
Ottawa  authorities  »vith  late  but  frantic  haste  were 
hustling  their  regiments  from  all  parts  of  Canada  to 
the  scene  of  war,  the  Mounted  Police  had  gripped  the 
situation  with  a  grip  so  stern  that  the  Indian  allies 
of  the  half-breed  rebels  paused  in  their  leap,  took  a 
second  thought  and  decided  to  wait  till  events  should 
indicate  the  path  of  discretion. 

And,  to  the  blood-lusting  Eiel,  Irvine's  swift  thrust 
Northward  to  Prince  Albert  suggested  caution,  while 
his  resolute  stand  at  that  distant  fort  drove  hard  down 
in  the  North  country  a  post  of  Empire  that  stuck  fast 
and  sure  while  all  else  seemed  to  be  sliding  to  destruc- 
tion. 

Inspector  Dickens,  too,  another  of  that  fearless  band 


264 


of  Police  officers,  holding  with  his  heroic  little  com- 
pany of  twenty-two  constables  Fort  Pitt  in  the  far 
North,  stayed  the  panic  consequent  upon  the  Frog  Lake 
massacre  and  furnished  food  for  serious  thought  to  the 
cunning  Chief,  Little  Pine,  and  his  four  hundred  and 
fifty  Crees,  as  well  as  to  the  sullen  Salteaux>  Big  Bear, 
with  his  three  hundred  braves.  And  to  the  lasting 
credit  of  Inspector  Dickens  it  stands  that  he  brought 
his  little  company  of  twenty-two  safe  through  a  hostile 
country  overrun  with  excited  Indians  and  half-breeds 
to  the  post  of  Battleford,  ninety-eight  miles  away. 

At  Battleford,  also,  after  the  sacking  of  the  town, 
Inspector  Morris  with  two  hundred  constables  behind 
his  hastily-constructed  barricade  kept  guard  ov.r  four 
hundred  women  and  children  and  held  at  bay  a  horde 
of  savages  yelling  for  loot  and  blood. 

Griesbach,  in  like  manner,  with  his  little  handful,  at 
Fort  Saskatchewan,  held  the  trail  to  Edmonton,  and 
materially  helped  to  bar  the  way  against  Big  Bear 
and  his  marauding  band. 

And  similarly  at  other  points  the  promptness,  re- 
source, wisdom  and  dauntless  resolution  of  the  gallant 
officers  of  the  Mounted  Police  and  of  the  men  they 
commanded  saved  Western  Canada  from  the  complete 
subversion  of  law  and  order  in  the  whole  Northern 
part  of  the  territories  and  from  the  unspeakable  hor- 
rors of  a  general  Indian  uprising. 

But  while  in  the  Northern  and  Eastern  part  of  the 
Territories  the  Police  officers  rendered  such  signal 
service  in  the  face  of  open  rebellion,  it  was  in  the 
foothill  country  in  the  far  West  that  perhaps  even 
greater  service  was  rendered  to  Canada  and  the  Em- 
pire in  this  time  of  peril  by  the  officers  and  men  of 
the  Mounted  Police. 


WAR  265 

It  was  due  to  the  influence  of  such  men  as  the  Super- 
intendents and  Inspectors  of  the  Police  in  charge  of 
the  various  posts  throughout  the  foothill  country 
more  than  to  anything  else  that  the  Chiefs  of  the 
11  great,  warlike,  intelligent  and  untractable  tribes"  of 
Blackfeet,  Blood,  Piegan,  Sarcee  and  Stony  Indians 
were  prevented  from  breaking  their  treaties  and  join- 
ing with  the  rebel  Crees,  Salteaux  and  Assiniboines 
of  the  North  and  East.  For  fifteen  years  the  Chiefs 
of  these  tribes  had  lived  under  the  firm  and  just  rule 
of  the  Police,  had  been  protected  from  the  rapacity  of 
unscrupulous  trade:  3  and  saved  from  the  ravages  of 
whisky-runners.  It  was  the  proud  boast  of  a  Blood 
Chief  that  the  Police  never  broke  a  promise  to  the 
Indian  and  never  failed  to  exact  justice  either  for  his 
punishment  or  for  his  protection. 

Hence  when  the  reserves  were  being  overrun  by 
emissaries  from  the  turbulent  Crees  and  from  the  plot- 
ting half-breeds,  in  the  face  of  the  impetuous  demands 
of  their  own  young  men  and  of  their  minor  Chiefs  to 
join  in  the  Great  Adventure,  the  great  Chiefs,  Bed 
Crow  and  Eainy  Chief  of  the  Bloods,  Bull's  Head  of 
the  Sarcees,  Trotting  "Wolf  of  the  Piegans,  and  more 
than  all,  Crowfoot,  the  able,  astute,  wise  old  head  of 
the  entire  Blackfeet  confederacy,  held  these  young 
braves  back  from  rebellion  and  thus  gave  time  and 
opportunity  to  Her  Majesty's  Forces  operating  in  the 
East  and  North  to  deal  with  the  rebels. 

And  during  those  days  of  strain,  strain  beyond  the 
estimate  of  all  not  immediately  involved,  it  was  the 
record  of  such  men  as  the  Superintendents  and  In- 
spectors in  charge  at  Fort  Macleod,  at  Fort  Calgary 
and  on  the  line  of  the  Canadian  Pacific  Eailway  con- 
struction in  the  mountains,  and  their  steady  bearing 


266         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

that  more  than  anything  else  weighed  with  the  great 
Chiefs  and  determined  for  them  their  attitude.  For 
with  calm,  cool  courage  the  Police  patrols  rode  in  and 
out  of  the  reserves,  quietly  reasoning  with  the  big 
Chiefs,  smiling  indulgently  upon  the  turbulent  minor 
Chiefs,  checking  up  with  swift,  firm,  but  tactful  justice 
the  many  outbreaks  against  law  and  order,  presenting 
even  in  their  most  desperate  moments  such  a  front  of 
resolute  self-confidence  to  the  Indians,  and  refusing  to 
give  any  sign  by  look  or  word  or  act  of  the  terrific 
anxiety  they  carried  beneath  their  gay  scarlet  coats. 
And  the  big  Chiefs,  reading  the  faces  of  these  cool, 
careless,  resolute,  smiling  men  who  had  a  trick  of 
appearing  at  unexpected  times  in  their  camps  and  re- 
fused to  be  hurried  or  worried,  finally  decided  to  wait 
a  little  longer.  And  they  waited  till  the  fatal  moment 
of  danger  was  past  and  the  time  for  striking — and  \n 
the  heart  of  every  Chief  of  them  the  desire  to  strike 
for  larger  freedom  and  independence  lay  deep — was 
gone.  To  these  guardians  of  Empire  who  fought  no 
fight,  who  endured  no  siege,  who  witnessed  no  massa- 
cre, the  Dominion  and  the  Empire  owe  more  than  none 
but  the  most  observing  will  ever  know. 

Paralleling  these  prompt  measures  of  the  North 
West  Mounted  Police,  the  Government  dispatched 
from  both  East  and  West  of  Canada  regiments  of  mili- 
tia to  relieve  the  beleaguered  posts  held  by  the  Police, 
to  prevent  the  spread  of  rebellion  and  to  hold  the  great 
tribes  of  the  Indians  of  the  far  West  true  to  their 
allegiance. 

Already  on  the  27th  of  March,  before  Irvine  had  de- 
cided to  abandon  Fort  Carlton  and  to  make  his  stand 
at  Prince  Albert,  General  Middleton  had  passed 
through  Winnipeg  on  his  way  to  take  command  of  the 


WAR  267 

Canadian  Forces  operating  in  the  West;  and  before 
two  weeks  more  had  gone  the  General  was  in  command 
of  a  considerable  body  of  troops  at  Qu'Appelle,  his  tem- 
porary headquarters.  From  all  parts  of  Canada  these 
men  gathered,  from  Quebec  and  Montreal,  from  the 
midland  counties  of  Ontario,  from  the  city  of  Toronto 
and  from  the  city  of  Winnipeg,  till  some  five  or  six 
thousand  citizen-soldiers  were  under  arms.  They  were 
needed,  too,  every  man,  not  so  much  because  of  the 
possible  weight  of  numbers  of  the  enemy  opposing 
them,  nor  because  of  the  tactical  skill  of  those  leading 
the  hostile  forces,  but  because  of  the  enemy's  advan- 
tage of  position,  owing  to  the  nature  of  the  country 
which  formed  the  scene  of  the  Rebellion,  and  because 
of  the  character  of  the  warfare  adopted  by  their  cun- 
ning foe. 

The  record  of  the  brief  six  weeks'  campaign  con- 
stitutes a  creditable  page  in  Canadian  history,  a  page 
which  no  Canadian  need  blush  to  read  aloud  in  the 
presence  of  any  company  of  men  who  know  how  to 
estimate  at  their  highest  value  those  qualities  of 
courage  and  endurance  that  are  the  characteristics 
of  the  British  soldier  the  world  over. 


268         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 
CHAPTER   XVII 

TO    AKMS! 

SUPERINTENDENT  STRONG  was  in  a  pleasant 
mood,  and  the  reason  was  not  far  to  seek.  The 
distracting  period  of  inaction,  of  doubt,  of  hesi- 
tation was  past,  and  now  at  last  something  would 
be  done.  His  term  of  service  along  the  line  of  the 
Canadian  Pacific  Railway  construction  had  been  far 
from  congenial  to  him.  There  had  been  too  much  of 
the  work  of  the  ordinary  patrol-officer  about  it.  True, 
he  did  his  duty  faithfully  and  thoroughly,  so  faith- 
fully, indeed,  as  to  move  the  great  men  of  the  railway 
company  to  outspoken  praise,  a  somewhat  unusual 
circumstance.  But  now  he  was  called  back  to  the  work 
that  more  properly  belonged  to  an  officer  of  Her 
Majesty's  North  West  Mounted  Police  and  his  soul 
glowed  with  the  satisfaction  of  those  who,  having  been 
found  faithful  in  uncongenial  duty,  are  rewarded  with 
an  opportunity  to  do  a  bit  of  work  which  they  particu- 
larly delight  to  do. 

With  his  twenty-five  men,  whom  for  the  past  year  he 
had  been  polishing  to  a  high  state  of  efficiency  in  the 
trying  work  of  police-duty  in  the  railway  construction- 
camp,  he  arrived  in  Calgary  on  the  evening  of  the 
tenth  of  April,  to  find  that  post  throbbing  with  mili- 
tary ardor  and  thrilling  with  rumors  of  massacres  and 
sieges,  of  marching  columns  and  contending  forces. 
Small  wonder  that  Superintendent  Strong's  face  took 
on  an  appearance  of  grim  pleasure.  Straight  to  the 
Police  headquarters  he  went,  but  there  was  no  Super- 
intendent there  to  welcome  him.  That  gentleman  had 
gone  East  to  meet  the  troops  and  was  by  now  under 


T  0   A  R  M  S  !  269 


appointment  as  Chief  of  Staff  to  that  dashing  soldier, 
Colonel  Otter. 

But  meantime,  though  the  Calgary  Police  Post  was 
bare  of  men,  there  were  other  men  as  keen  and  as 
daring,  if  not  so  thoroughly  disciplined  for  war, 
thronging  the  streets  of  the  little  town  and  asking  only 
a  leader  whom  they  could  follow. 

It  was  late  evening,  but  Calgary  was  an  "all  night" 
town,  and  every  minute  was  precious,  for  minutes 
might  mean  lives  of  women  and  children.  So  down  the 
street  rode  Superintendent  Strong  toward  the  Eoyal 
Hotel.  At  the  hitching  post  of  that  hostelry  a  sad- 
looking  broncho  was  tied,  whose  calm,  absorbed  and 
detached  appearance  struck  a  note  of  discord  with  his 
environment;  for  everywhere  about  him  men  and 
horses  seemed  to  be  in  a  turmoil  of  excitement. 
Everywhere  men  in  cow-boy  garb  were  careering 
about  the  streets  or  grouped  in  small  crowds  about  the 
saloon  doors.  There  were  few  loud  voices,  but  the 
words  of  those  who  were  doing  the  speaking  came 
more  rapidly  than  usual. 

Such  a  group  was  gathered  in  the  rear  of  the  sad- 
looking  broncho  before  the  door  of  the  Eoyal  Hotel. 
As  the  Superintendent  loped  up  upon  his  big  brown 
horse  the  group  broke  apart  and,  like  birds  disturbed 
at  their  feeding,  circled  about  and  closed  again. 

"Hello,  here's  Superintendent  Strong,"  said  a 
voice.  "He'll  know." 

"Know  what?"  inquired  the  Superintendent. 

"Why,  what's  doing?" 

''Where  are  the  troops?" 

"Is  Prince  Albert  down?" 

"Where's  Middleton?" 

"What's  to  be  done  here?" 


270         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

There  were  many  voices,  all  eager,  and  in  them  just 
a  touch  of  anxiety. 

''Not  a  thing  do  I  know,"  said  Superintendent 
Strong  somewhat  gravely.  "I  have  been  up  in  the 
mountains  and  have  heard  little.  I  know  that  the  Com- 
missioner has  gone  north  to  Prince  Albert." 

"Have  you  heard  about  Duck  Lake?"  inquired  a 
voice. 

"Yes,  I  heard  we  had  a  reverse  there,  and  I  know 
that  General  Middleton  has  arrived  at  Qu'Appelle 
and  has  either  set  out  for  the  north  or  is  about  to  set 
out." 

"Heard  about  Frog  Lake?" 

"Frog  Lake?  No.  That  is  up  near  Fort  Pitt. 
What  about  it?" 

For  a  moment  there  was  silence,  then  a  deep  voice 
replied : 

"A  ghastly  massacre,  women  and  children  and 
priests." 

Then  another  period  of  silence. 

"Indians?"  murmured  the  Superintendent  in  a  low 
voice. 

"Yes,  half-breeds  and  Indians,"  replied  the  deep 
voice.  And  again  there  was  silence.  The  men  waited 
for  Superintendent  Strong  to  speak. 

The  Superintendent  sat  on  his  big  horse  look- 
ing at  them  quietly,  then  he  said  sharply : 

"Men,  there  are  some  five  or  six  thousand  Indians 
in  this  district."  They  were  all  thinking  the  same 
thing.  ' '  I  have  twenty-five  men  with  me.  Superinten- 
dent Cotton  at  Macleod  has  less  than  a  hundred." 

The  men  sat  their  horses  in  silence  looking  at  him. 
One  could  hear  their  deep  breathing  and  see  the  quiver 
of  the  horses  under  the  gripping  knees  of  their  riders. 


T  0   A  E  M  S  !  271 


Their  minds  were  working  swiftly.  Ever  since  the 
news  of  the  Frog  Lake  massacre  had  spread  like  a 
fire  across  the  country  these  men  had  been  carrying 
in  their  minds — rather,  in  their  hearts — pictures  that 
started  them  up  in  their  beds  at  night  broad  awake 
and  all  in  a  cold  sweat. 

The  Superintendent  lowered  his  voice.  The  men 
leaned  forward  to  listen.  He  had  only  a  single  word 
to  say,  a  short  sharp  word  it  was — 

"Who  will  join  me?" 

It  was  as  if  his  question  had  released  a  spring  drawn 
to  its  limit.  From  twenty  different  throats  in  twenty 
different  tones,  but  with  a  single  throbbing  impulse, 
came  the  response,  swift,  full-throated,  savage, '  *  Me ! ' ' 
"I!"  "Here  you  are!"  "You  bet!"  "Count  me!" 
"Rather!"  and  in  three  minutes  Superintendent 
Strong  had  secured  the  nucleus  of  his  famous  scouts. 

"To-morrow  at  nine  at  the  Barracks!"  said  this 
grim  and  laconic  Superintendent,  and  was  about  turn- 
ing away  when  a  man  came  out  from  the  door  of  the 
Eoyal  Hotel,  drawn  forth  by  that  sudden  savage  yell 

' '  Hello,  Cameron ! ' '  said  the  Superintendent,  as  the 
man  moved  toward  the  sad-appearing  broncho,  "] 
want  you." 

"All  right,  sir.  I  am  with  you,"  was  the  reply  as 
Cameron  swung  on  to  his  horse.  ' '  Wake  up,  Ginger ! ' ' 
he  said  to  his  horse,  touching  him  with  his  heel. 
Ginger  woke  up  with  an  indignant  snort  and  forthwith 
fell  into  line  with  the  Superintendent's  big  brown 
horse. 

The  Superintendent  was  silent  till  the  Barracks  were 
gained,  then,  giving  the  horses  into  the  care  of  an 
orderly,  he  led  Cameron  into  the  office  and  after  they 


272         THE    SUN   DANCE    TEAIL 

had  settled  themselves  before  the  fire  he  began  without 
preliminaries. 

1 '  Cameron,  I  am  more  anxious  than  I  can  say  about 
the  situation  here  in  this  part  of  the  country.  I  have 
been  away  from  the  center  of  things  for  some  months 
and  I  have  lost  touch.  I  want  you  to  let  me  know  just 
what  is  doing  from  our  side. ' ' 

"I  do  not  know  much,  sir,"  replied  Cameron.  "I, 
too,  have  just  come  in  from  a  long  parley  with  Crow- 
foot and  his  Chiefs. ' ' 

"Ah,  by  the  way,  how  is  the  old  boy?"  inquired  the 
Superintendent.  "Will  he  stick  by  us?" 

"At  present  he  is  very  loyal,  sir, — too  loyal  al- 
most," said  Cameron  in  a  doubtful  tone.  "Duck  Lake 
sent  some  of  his  young  men  off  their  heads  a  bit,  and 
Frog  Lake  even  more.  The  Sarcees  went  wild  over 
Frog  Lake,  you  know." 

"Oh,  I  don't  worry  about  the  Sarcees  so  much. 
What  of  Crowfoot?" 

"Well,  he  has  managed  to  hold  down  his  younger 
Chiefs  so  far.  He  made  light  of  the  Frog  Lake  affair, 
but  he  was  most  anxious  to  get  from  me  the  fullest 
particulars  of  the  Duck  Lake  fight.  He  made  careful 
inquiries  as  to  just  how  many  Police  were  in  the  fight. 
I  could  see  that  it  gave  him  a  shock  to  learn  that  the 
Police  had  to  retire.  This  was  a  new  experience  for 
him.  He  was  intensely  anxious  to  learn  also — though 
he  would  not  allow  himself  to  appear  so — just  what 
the  Government  was  doing. ' ' 

"And  what  are  the  last  reports  from  headquarters? 
You  see  I  have  not  been  kept  fully  in  touch.  I  know 
that  the  Commissioner  has  gone  north  to  Prince  Al- 
bert and  that  General  Middleton  has  taken  command 
of  the  forces  in  the  West  and  has  gone  North  with  them 


T  0   A  B  M  S  !  273 


from  Qu'  Appelle,  but  what  troops  he  has  I  have  not 
heard." 

"I  understand,"  replied  Cameron,  "that  he  has 
three  regiments  of  infantry  from  Toronto  and  three 
from  Winnipeg,  with  the  Winnipeg  Field  Battery.  A 
regiment  from  Quebec  has  arrived  and  one  from 
Montreal  and  there  are  more  to  follow.  The  plan  of 
campaign  I  know  nothing  about." 

"Ah,  well,"  replied  the  Superintendent,  "I  know 
something  about  the  plan,  I  believe.  There  are  three 
objective  points,  Prince  Albert  and  Battleford,  both 
of  which  are  now  closely  besieged,  and  Edmonton, 
which  is  threatened  with  a  great  body  of  rebel  Crees 
and  Salteaux  under  leadership  of  Little  Pine  and  Big 
Bear.  The  Police  at  these  points  can  hardly  be  ex- 
pected to  hold  out  long  against  the  overwhelming 
numbers  that  are  besieging  them,  and  I  expect  that 
relief  columns  will  be  immediately  dispatched.  Now, 
in  regard  to  this  district  here,  do  you  know  what  is 
being  done?" 

"Well,  General  Strange  has  come  in  from  his  ranch 
and  has  offered  his  services  in  raising  a  local  force." 

"Yes,  I  was  glad  to  hear  that  his  offer  had  been  ac- 
cepted and  that  he  has  been  appointed  to  lead  an  ex- 
peditionary force  from  here  to  Edmonton.  He  is  an 
experienced  officer  and  I  am  sure  will  do  us  fine  ser- 
vice. I  hope  to  see  him  to-morrow.  Now,  about  the 
South,"  continued  the  Superintendent,  "what  about 
Fort  MacLeod?" 

1 1  The  Superintendent  there  has  offered  himself  and 
his  whole  force  for  service  in  the  North,  but  General 
Middleton,  I  understand,  has  asked  him  to  remain 
where  he  is  and  keep  guard  in  this  part  of  the  coun- 
try." 


274         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

"Good!  I  am  glad  of  that.  In  my  judgment  this 
country  holds  the  key.  The  Crees  I  do  not  fear  so 
much.  They  are  more  restless  and  uncertain,  but 
God  help  us  if  the  Blackfeet  and  the  Bloods  rise! 
That  is  why  I  called  for  volunteers  to-night.  We  can- 
not afford  to  be  without  a  strong  force  here  a  single 
day." 

"I  gathered  that  you  got  some  volunteers  to-night. 
I  hope,  sir,"  said  Cameron,  "you  will  have  a  place  for 
me  in  your  troop?" 

' '  My  dear  fellow,  nothing  would  please  me  better,  I 
assure  you,"  said  the  Superintendent  cordially.  "And 
as  proof  of  my  confidence  in  you  I  am  going  to  send 
you  through  the  South  country  to  recruit  men  for  my 
troop.  I  can  rely  upon  your  judgment  and  tact.  But 
as  for  you,  you  cannot  leave  your  present  beat.  The 
Sun  Dance  Trail  cannot  be  abandoned  for  one  hour. 
From  it  you  keep  an  eye  upon  the  secret  movements 
of  all  the  tribes  in  this  whole  region  and  you  can  da 
much  to  counteract  if  not  to  wholly  check  any  hostile 
movement  that  may  arise.  Indeed,  you  have  already 
done  more  than  any  one  will  ever  know  to  hold  this 
country  safe  during  these  last  months.  And  you  must 
stay  where  you  are.  Remember,  Cameron,"  added  the 
Superintendent  impressively,  "your  work  lies  along 
the  Sun  Dance  Trail.  On  no  account  and  for  no  reason 
must  you  be  persuaded  to  abandon  that  post.  I  shall 
get  into  touch  with  General  Strange  to-morrow  and 
shall  doubtless  get  something  to  do,  but  if  possible 
I  should  like  you  to  give  me  a  day  or  two  for  this 
recruiting  business  before  you  take  up  again  your 
patrol  work  along  the  Sun  Da^ce." 

"Very  well,  sir,"  replied  Cameron  quietly,  trying 


T  0   A  E  M  S  !  275 


hard  to  keep  the  disappointment  out  of  his  voice.  "I 
shall  do  my  best." 

* l  That  is  right, ' '  said  the  Superintendent.  ' '  By  the 
way,  what  are  the  Piegans  doing?" 

"The  Piegans,"  replied  Cameron,  "are  industri- 
ously stealing  cattle  and  horses.  I  cannot  quite  make 
out  just  how  they  can  manage  to  get  away  with  them. 
Eagle  Feathei  is  apparently  running  the  thing,  but 
there  is  someone  bigger  than  Eagle  Feather  in  the 
game.  An  additional  month  or  two  in  the  guard- 
room would  have  done  that  gentleman  no  harm. ' ' 

"Ah,  has  he  been  in  the  guard-room?  How  did  he 
get  there?" 

"Oh,  I  pulled  him  out  of  the  Sun  Dance,  where  I 
found  he  had  been  killing  cattle,  and  the  Superinten- 
dent at  Macleod  gave  him  two  months  to  meditate  upon 
his  crimes." 

Superintendent  Strong  expressed  his  satisfaction. 

"But  now  he  is  at  his  old  habits  again,"  continued 
Cameron.  "But  his  is  not  the  brain  planning  these 
raids.  They  are  cleverly  done  and  are  getting  serious. 
For  instance,  I  must  have  lost  a  score  or  two  of  steers 
within  the  last  three  months." 

"A  score  or  two?"  exclaimed  the  Superintendent. 
"What  are  they  doing  with  them  all?" 

' '  That  is  what  I  find  difficult  to  explain.  Either  they 
are  running  them  across  the  border — though  the  Amer- 
ican Police  know  nothing  of  it — or  they  are  making 
pemmican. ' ' 

' '  Pemmican  ?  Aha !  that  looks  serious, ' '  said  the  Su- 
perintendent gravely. 

"Yes,  indeed,"  said  Cameron.  "It  makes  me  think 
that  some  one  bigger  than  Eagle  Feather  is  at  the  bot- 
tom of  all  this  cattle-running.  Sometimes  I  have 


276         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

thought  that  perhaps  that  chap  Raven  has  a  hand  in 
it." 

"Raven?"  exclaimed  the  Superintendent.  "He  has 
brain  enough  and  nerve  in  plenty  for  any  dare-devil 
exploit. ' ' 

"But,"  continued  Cameron  in  a  hesitating  voice, 
"I  cannot  bring  myself  to  lay  this  upon  him." 

"Why  not?"  inquired  the  Superintendent  sharply. 
"He  is  a  cool  hand  and  desperate.  I  know  his  work 
fairly  well.  He  is  a  first-class  villain. ' ' 

"Yes,  I  know  he  is  all  that,  and  yet — well — in  this 
rebellion,  sir,  I  believe  he  is  with  us  and  against  them. '  * 
In  proof  of  this  Cameron  proceeded  to  relate  the  story 
of  Raven's  visit  to  the  Big  Horn  Ranch.  "So  you 
see,"  he  concluded,  "he  would  not  care  to  work  in  con- 
nection with  the  Piegans  just  now. ' ' 

"I  don't  know  about  that — I  don't  know  about 
that,"  replied  the  Superintendent.  "Of  course  he 
would  not  work  against  us  directly,  but  he  might  work 
for  himself  in  this  crisis.  It  would  furnish  him  with  a 
good  opportunity,  you  see.  It  would  give  him  plenty 
of  cover." 

* '  Yes,  that  is  true,  but  still — I  somehow  cannot  help 
liking  the  chap. ' ' 

"Liking  the  chap?"  echoed  the  Superintendent. 
"He  is  a  cold-blooded  villain  and  cattle-thief,  a  mur- 
derer, as  you  know.  If  ever  I  get  my  hand  on  him  in 
this  rumpus Why,  he's  an  outlaw  pure  and  sim- 
ple! I  have  no  use  for  that  kind  of  man  at  all.  I 
should  like  to  hang  him!"  The  Superintendent  was 
indignant  at  the  suggestion  that  any  but  the  severest 
measures  should  be  meted  out  to  a  man  of  Raven's 
type.  It  was  the  instinct  and  training  of  the  Police 
officer  responsible  for  the  enforcement  of  law  and 
order  in  the  land  moving  within  him.  ' l  But, ' '  contin- 


T  0   A  E  M  S  !  277 


ned  the  Superintendent,  ' '  let  us  get  back  to  our  plans. 
There  must  be  a  strong  force  raised  in  this  district 
immediately.  We  have  the  kind  of  men  best  suited 
for  the  work  all  about  us  in  this  ranching  country,  and 
I  know  that  if  you  ride  south  throughout  the  ranges 
you  can  bring  me  back  fifty  men,  and  there  would  be 
no  finer  anywhere." 

"I  shall  do  what  I  can,  sir,"  replied  Cameron,  "but 
I  am  not  sure  about  the  fifty  men. ' ' 

Long  they  talked  over  the  plans,  till  it  was  far  past 
midnight,  when  Cameron  took  his  leave  and  returned 
to  his  hotel.  He  put  up  his  own  horse,  looking  after 
his  feeding  and  bedding. 

'  *  You  have  some  work  to  do,  Ginger,  for  your  Queen 
and  country  to-morrow,  and  you  must  be  fit,"  he  said 
as  he  finished  rubbing  the  horse  down. 

And  Ginger  had  work  to  do,  but  not  that  planned 
for  him  by  his  master,  as  it  turned  out.  At  the  door  of 
the  Royal  Hotel,  Cameron  found  waiting  him  in  the 
shadow  a  tall  slim  Indian  youth. 

"Hello!"  said  Cameron.  "Who  are  you  and  what 
do  you  want?" 

As  the  youth  stepped  into  the  light  there  came  to 
Cameron  a  dim  suggestion  of  something  familiar  about 
the  lad,  not  so  much  in  his  face  as  in  his  figure  and 
bearing. 

"Who  are  you?"  said  Cameron  again  somewhat  im- 
patiently. 

The  young  man  pulled  up  his  trouser  leg  and  showed 
a  scarred  ankle. 

"Ah !    Now  I  get  you.    You  are  the  young  Piegan?" 

' '  No ! ' '  said  the  youth,  throwing  back  his  head  with 
a  haughty  movement.  "No  Piegan." 

"Ah,  no,  of  course.    Onawata's  son,  eh?" 


278         THE   SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 

The  lad  grunted. 

"What  do  you  want?"  inquired  Cameron. 

The  young  man  stood  silent,  evidently  finding  speech 
difficult. 

"Eagle  Feather,"  at  length  he  said,  "Little  Thun- 
der— plenty  Piegan — run  much  cattle."  He  made  a 
sweeping  motion  with  his  arm  to  indicate  the  extent 
of  the  cattle  raid  proposed. 

"They  do,  eh?    Come  in,  my  boy." 

The  boy  shook  his  head  and  drew  back.  He  shared 
with  all  wild  things  the  fear  of  inclosed  places. 

"Are  you  hungry?" 

The  boy  nodded  his  head. 

"Come  with  me." 

Together  they  walked  down  the  street  and  came  to 
a  restaurant. 

"Come  in  and  eat.  It  is  all  right,"  said  Cameron, 
offering  his  hand. 

The  Indian  took  the  offered  hand,  laid  it  upon  his 
heart,  then  for  a  full  five  seconds  with  his  fierce  black 
eye  he  searched  Cameron^s  face.  Satisfied,  he  mo- 
tioned Cameron  to  enter  and  followed  close  on  his 
heel.  Never  before  had  the  lad  been  within  four  walls. 

"Eat,"  said  Cameron  when  the  ordered  meal  was 
placed  before  them.  The  lad  was  obviously  ravenous 
and  needed  no  further  urging. 

"How  long  since  you  left  the  reserve?"  inquired 
Cameron. 

The  youth  held  up  three  fingers. 

"Good  going,"  said  Cameron,  letting  his  eye  run 
down  the  lines  of  the  Indian's  lithe  figure. 

"Smoke?"  inquired  Cameron  when  the  meal  was 
finished. 


TO   ARMS  !  279 


The  lad's  eye  gleamed,  but  he  shook  his  head. 

"No  pipe,  eh?"  said  Cameron.  "Come,  we  will 
mend  that.  Here,  John,"  he  said  to  the  Chinese 
waiter,  "bring  me  a  pipe.  There,"  said  Cameron, 
passing  the  Indian  the  pipe  after  filling  it,  "smoke 
away. ' ' 

After  another  swift  and  searching  look  the  lad  took 
the  pipe  from  Cameron's  hand  and  with  solemn  grav- 
ity began  to  smoke.  It  was  to  him  far  more  than  a 
mere  luxurious  addendum  to  his  meal.  It  was  a  sol- 
emn ceremonial  sealing  a  compact  of  amity  between 
them. 

' '  Now,  tell  me, ' '  said  Cameron,  when  the  smoke  had 
gone  on  for  some  time. 

Slowly  and  with  painful  difficulty  the  youth  told  his 
story  in  terse,  brief  sentences. 

"T'ree  day,"  he  began,  holding  up  three  fingers, 
"me  hear  Eagle  Feather — many  Piegans — talk — talk 
— talk.  Go  fight — keel — keel — keel  all  white  man, 
squaw,  papoose." 

"When?"  inquired  Cameron,  keeping  his  face 
steady. 

"Come  Cree  runner — soon," 

"You  mean  they  are  waiting  for  a  runner  from  the 
North?"  inquired  Cameron.  "If  the  Crees  win  the 
fight  then  the  Piegans  will  rise?  Is  that  it?" 

The  Indian  nodded.  ' '  Come  Cree  Indian — then  Pie- 
gan  fight." 

•'They  will  not  rise  until  the  runner  comes,  eh?" 

"No." 

Cameron  breathed  more  easily. 

"Is  that  all?"  he  inquired  carelessly. 

"This  day  Eagle  Feather  run  much  cattle — beeg 


280         THE   SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 

beeg  run."  The  young  man  again  swept  the  room 
with  his  arm. 

"Bah!  Eagle  Feather  is  no  good.  He  is  an  old 
squaw,"  said  Cameron. 

"Huh!"  agreed  the  Indian  quickly.  "Little  Thun- 
der go  too." 

"Little  Thunder,  eh!"  said  Cameron,  controlling 
his  voice  with  an  effort. 

The  lad  nodded,  his  piercing  eye  upon  Cameron's 
face. 

For  some  minutes  Cameron  smoked  quietly. 

"And  Onawata?"  With  startling  suddenness  he 
shot  out  the  question. 

Not  a  line  of  the  Indian's  face  moved.  He  ignored 
the  question,  smoking  steadily  and  looking  before 
him. 

"Ah,  it  is  a  strange  way  for  Onawata  to  repay  the 
white  man's  kindness  to  his  son,"  said  Cameron.  The 
contemptuous  voice  pierced  the  Indian's  armor  of 
impassivity.  Cameron  caught  the  swift  quiver  in  the 
face  that  told  that  his  stab  had  reached  the  quick. 
There  is  nothing  in  the  Indian's  catalogue  of  crimes 
so  base  as  the  sin  of  ingratitude. 

"Onawata  beeg  Chief — beeg  Chief,"  at  length  the 
boy  said  proudly.  ' '  He  do  beeg — beeg  t  'ing. ' ' 

"Yes,  he  steals  my  cattle,"  said  Cameron  with  sting- 
ing scorn. 

"No!"  replied  the  Indian  sharply.  "Little  Thun- 
der— Eagle  Feather  steal  cattle — Onawata  no  steal." 

' '  I  am  glad  to  hear  it,  then, ' '  said  Cameron.  ' '  This 
is  a  big  run  of  cattle,  eh  ? " 

"Yes — beeg — beeg  run."  Again  the  Indian's  arm 
swept  the  room. 


T  0   A  R  M  S  !  281 


"What  will  they  do  with  all  those  cattle?"  inquired 
Cameron. 

But  again  the  Indian  ignored  his  question  and  re- 
mained silently  smoking. 

"Why  does  the  son  of  Onawata  come  to  me?"  in- 
quired Cameron. 

A  soft  and  subtle  change  transformed  the  boy's 
face.  He  pulled  up  his  trouser  leg  and,  pointing  to 
the  scarred  ankle,  said: 

"You'  squaw  good — me  two  leg — me  come  tell  you 
take  squaw  'way  far — no  keel.  Take  cattle  'way — no 
steal. ' '  He  rose  suddenly  to  his  feet.  ' '  Me  go  now, ' ' 
he  said,  and  passed  out. 

* '  Hold  on ! "  cried  Cameron,  following  him  out  to  the 
door.  "Where  are  you  going  to  sleep  to-night?" 

The  boy  waved  his  hand  toward  the  hills  surround- 
ing the  little  town. 

' '  Here, ' '  said  Cameron,  emptying  his  tobacco  pouch 
into  the  boy's  hand.  "I  will  tell  my  squaw  that  Ona- 
wata's  son  is  not  ungrateful,  that  he  remembered  her 
kindness  and  has  paid  it  back  to  me." 

For  the  first  time  a  smile  broke  on  the  grave  face 
of  the  Indian.  He  took  Cameron's  hand,  laid  it  upon 
his  own  heart,  and  then  on  Cameron's. 

"You'  squaw  good — good — much  good."  He  ap- 
peared to  struggle  to  find  other  words,  but  failing,  and 
with  a  smile  still  lingering  upon  his  handsome  face,  he 
turned  abruptly  away  and  glided  silent  as  a  shadow 
into  the  starlit  night.  Cameron  watched  him  out  of 
sight. 

"Not  a  bad  sort,"  he  said  to  himself  as  he  walked 
toward  the  hotel.  '  *  Pretty  tough  thing  for  him  to  come 
here  and  give  away  his  dad's  scheme  like  that — and  I 
bet  you  he  is  keen  on  it  himself  too. ' ' 


282         THE   SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 
CHAPTER   XVIH 

AN  OUTLAW,  BUT  A  MAN 

THE  news  brought  by  the  Indian  lad  changed  for 
Cameron  all  his  plans.  This  cattle-raid  was 
evidently  a  part  of  and  preparation  for  the 
bigger  thing,  a  general  uprising  and  war  of  exter- 
mination on  the  part  of  the  Indians.  From  his  re- 
cent visit  to  the  reserves  he  was  convinced  that  the 
loyalty  of  even  the  great  Chiefs  was  becoming  some- 
what brittle  and  would  not  bear  any  sudden  strain  put 
upon  it.  A  successful  raid  of  cattle  such  as  was  be- 
ing proposed  escaping  the  notice  of  the  Police,  or  in 
the  teeth  of  the  Police,  would  have  a  disastrous  effect 
upon  the  prestige  of  the  whole  Force,  already  shaken 
by  the  Duck  Lake  reverse.  The  effect  of  that  skirmish 
was  beyond  belief.  The  victory  of  the  half-breeds  was 
exaggerated  in  the  wildest  degree.  He  must  act  and 
act  quickly.  His  home  and  his  family  and  those  of  his 
neighbors  were  in  danger  of  the  most  horrible  fate 
that  could  befall  any  human  being.  If  the  cattle-raid 
were  carried  through  by  the  Piegan  Indians  its  sweep 
would  certainly  include  the  Big  Horn  Ranch,  and  there 
was  every  likelihood  that  his  home  might  be  destroyed, 
for  he  was  an  object  of  special  hate  to  Eagle  Feather 
and  to  Little  Thunder ;  and  if  Copperhead  were  in  the 
business  he  had  even  greater  cause  for  anxiety. 

But  what  was  to  be  done?  The  Indian  boy  had 
taken  three  days  to  bring  the  news.  It  would  take  a 
day  and  a  night  of  hard  riding  to  reach  his  home. 
Quickly  he  made  his  plans.  He  passed  into  the  hotel, 
found  the  room  of  Billy  the  hostler  and  roused  him  up. 
" Billy,"  he  said,  "get  my  horse  out  quick  and  hitch 


AN  OUTLAW,   BUT   A   MAN        283 

him  up  to  the  post  where  I  can  get  him.  And  Billy, 
if  you  love  me,"  he  implored,  "be  quick!" 

Billy  sprang  from  his  bed. 

"Don't  know  what's  eatin'  you,  boss,"  he  said, 
"but  quick's  the  word." 

In  another  minute  Cameron  was  pounding  at  Dr. 
Martin's  door  upstairs.  Happily  the  doctor  was  in. 

"Martin,  old  man,"  cried  Cameron,  gripping  him 
hard  by  the  shoulder.  "Wake  up  and  listen  hard! 
That  Indian  boy  you  and  Mandy  pulled  through  has 
just  come  all  the  way  from  the  Piegan  Reserve  to  tell 
me  of  a  proposed  cattle-raid  and  a  possible  uprising 
of  the  Piegans  in  that  South  country.  The  cattle-raid 
is  coming  on  at  once.  The  uprising  depends  upon 
news  from  the  Crees.  Listen!  I  have  promised  Su- 
perintendent Strong  to  spend  the  next  two  days  re- 
cruiting for  his  new  troop.  Explain  to  him  why  I  can- 
not do  this.  He  will  understand.  Then  ride  like 
blazes  to  Macleod  and  tell  the  Inspector  all  that  I  have 
told  you  and  get  him  to  send  what  men  he  can  spare 
along  with  you.  You  can 't  get  a  man  here.  The  raid 
starts  from  the  Piegan  Reserve.  It  will  likely  finish 
where  the  old  Porcupine  Trail  joins  the  Sun  Dance. 
At  least  so  I  judge.  Ride  by  the  ranch  and  get  some 
of  them  there  to  show  you  the  shortest  trail.  Both 
Mandy  and  Moira  know  it  well." 

"Hold  on,  Cameron!  Let  me  get  this  clear,"  cried 
the  doctor,  holding  him  fast  by  the  arm.  * '  Two  things 
I  have  gathered,"  said  the  doctor,  speaking  rapidly, 
"first,  a  cattle-raid,  then  a  general  uprising,  the  up- 
rising dependent  upon  the  news  from  the  North.  You 
want  to  block  the  cattle-raid?  Is  that  right?" 

"Right,"  said  Cameron. 


284         THE   SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 

"Then  you  want  me  to  settle  with  Superintendent 
Storm,  ride  to  Macleod  for  men,  then  by  your  ranch 
and  have  them  show  me  the  shortest  trail  to  the  junc- 
tion of  the  Porcupine  and  the  Sun  Dance?" 

' '  You  are  right,  Martin,  old  boy.  It  is  a  great  thing 
to  have  a  head  like  yours.  I  shall  meet  you  some- 
where at  that  point.  I  have  been  thinking  this  thing 
over  and  I  believe  they  mean  to  make  pemmican  in 
preparation  for  their  uprising,  and  if  so  they  will 
make  it  somewhere  on  the  Sun  Dance  Trail  Now  I  am 
off.  Let  me  go,  Martin." 

"Tell  me  your  own  movements  now." 

"First,  the  ranch,"  said  Cameron.  "Then  straight 
for  the  Sun  Dance." 

"All  right,  old  boy.    By-by  and  good-luck!" 

Cameron  found  Billy  waiting  with  Ginger  at  the  door 
of  the  hotel. 

"Thank  you,  Billy,"  he  said,  fumbling  in  his  pocket. 
"Hang  it,  I  can't  find  my  purse." 

"You  go  hang  yourself!"  said  Billy.  "Never  mind 
jour  purse." 

"All  right,  then,"  said  Cameron,  giving  him  his 
hand.  "Good-by.  You  are  a  trump,  Billy."  He 
caught  Ginger  by  the  mane  and  threw  himself  on  the 
saddle. 

"Now,  then,  Ginger,  you  must  not  fail  me  this  trip, 
if  it  is  your  last.  A  hundred  and  twenty  miles,  old 
boy,  and  you  are  none  too  fresh  either.  But,  Ginger, 
we  must  beat  them  this  time.  A  hundred  and  twenty, 
miles  to  the  Big  Horn  and  twenty  miles  farther  to  the 
Sun  Dance,  that  makes  a  hundred  and  forty,  Ginger, 
and  you  are  just  in  from  a  hard  two  days'  ride. 
Steady,  boy!  Not  too  hard  at  the  first."  For  Ginger 
was  showing  signs  of  eagerness  beyond  his  wont.  "At 


AN  OUTLAW,   BUT   A  MAN        285 

all  costs  this  raid  must  be  stopped,"  continued  Cam- 
eron, speaking,  after  his  manner,  to  his  horse,  "not 
for  the  sake  of  a  few  cattle — we  could  all  stand  that 
loss — but  to  balk  at  its  beginning  this  scheme  of  old 
Copperhead's,  for  I  believe  in  my  soul  he  is  at  the 
bottom  of  it.  Steady,  old  boy !  We  need  every  minute, 
but  we  cannot  afford  to  make  any  miscalculations. 
The  last  quarter  of  an  hour  is  likely  to  be  the  worst. ' ' 

So  on  they  went  through  the  starry  night.  Steadily 
Ginger  pounded  the  trail,  knocking  off  the  miles  hour 
after  hour.  There  was  no  pause  for  rest  or  for  food. 
A  few  mouthfuls  of  water  in  the  fording  of  a  running 
stream,  a  pause  to  recover  breath  before  plunging 
into  an  icy  river,  or  on  the  taking  of  a  steep  coulee 
side,  but  no  more.  Hour  after  hour  they  pressed  for- 
ward toward  the  Big  Horn  Ranch.  The  night  passed 
into  morning  and  the  morning  into  the  day,  but  still 
they  pressed  the  trail. 

Toward  the  close  of  the  day  Cameron  found  himself 
within  an  hour's  ride  of  his  own  ranch  with  Ginger 
showing  every  sign  of  leg  weariness  and  almost  of 
collapse. 

' '  Good  old  chap ! ' '  cried  Cameron,  leaning  over  him 
and  patting  his  neck.  "  We  must  make  it.  We  cannot 
let  up,  you  know.  Stick  to  it,  old  boy,  a  little  longer. ' ' 

A  little  snort  and  a  little  extra  spurt  of  speed  was 
the  gallant  Ginger's  reply,  but  soon  he  was  forced  to 
sink  back  again  into  his  stumbling  stride. 

"One  hour  more,  Ginger,  that  is  all — one  hour 
only. ' ' 

As  he  spoke  he  leapt  from  his  saddle  to  ease  his 
horse  in  climbing  a  long  and  lofty  hill.  As  he  sur- 
mounted the  hill  he  stopped  and  swiftly  backed  his 
horse  down  the  hill.  Upon  the  distant  skyline  his 


286         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

eye  had  detected  wliat  he  judged  to  be  a  horseman. 
His  horse  safely  disposed  of,  he  once  more  crawled 
to  the  top  of  the  hill. 

"An  Indian,  by  Jove!"  he  cried.  "I  wonder  if  he 
has  seen  me.'* 

Carefully  his  eye  swept  the  intervening  valley  and 
the  hillside  beyond,  but  only  this  solitary  figure  could 
he  see.  As  his  eye  rested  on  him  the  Indian  began  to 
move  toward  the  west.  Cameron  lay  watching  him 
for  some  minutes.  From  his  movements  it  was  evi- 
dent that  the  Indian's  pace  was  being  determined  by 
some  one  on  the  other  side  of  the  hill,  for  he  advanced 
now  swiftly,  now  slowly.  At  times  he  halted  and 
turned  back  upon  his  track,  then  went  forward  again. 

"What  the  deuce  is  he  doing?"  said  Cameron  to 
himself.  * '  By  Jove !  I  have  got  it !  The  drive  is  be- 
gun. I  am  too  late. ' ' 

Swiftly  he  considered  the  whole  situation.  He  was 
too  late  now  to  be  of  any  service  at  his  ranch.  The 
raid  had  already  swept  past  it.  He  wrung  his  hands 
in  agony  to  think  of  what  might  have  happened.  He 
was  torn  with  anxiety  for  his  family — and  yet  here 
was  the  raid  passing  onward  before  his  eyes.  One 
hour  would  bring  him  to  the  ranch,  but  if  this  were 
the  outside  edge  of  the  big  cattle  raid  the  loss  of  an 
hour  would  mean  the  loss  of  everything. 

"Oh,  my  God!    What  shall  I  do?"  he  cried. 

With  his  eyes  still  upon  the  Indian  he  forced  him- 
self to  think  more  quietly.  The  secrecy  with  which 
the  raid  was  planned  made  it  altogether  likely  that 
the  homes  of  the  settlers  would  not  at  this  time  be 
interfered  with.  This  consideration  finally  determined 
him.  At  all  costs  he  must  do  what  he  could  to  head 
off  the  raid  or  to  break  the  herd  in  some  way.  But 


AN   OUTLAW,   BUT   A   MAN        287 

that  meant  in  the  first  place  a  ride  of  twenty  or  twenty- 
five  miles  over  rough  country.    Could  Ginger  do  it  ? 

He  crawled  back  to  his  horse  and  found  him  with 
his  head  close  to  the  ground  and  trembling  in  every 
limb. 

"If  he  goes  this  twenty  miles,"  he  said,  "he  will  go 
no  more.  But  it  looks  like  our  only  hope,  old  boy. 
We  must  make  for  our  old  beat,  the  Sun  Dance  Trail. ' ' 

He  mounted  his  horse  and  set  off  toward  the  west, 
taking  care  never  to  appear  above  the  skyline  and 
riding  as  rapidly  as  the  uncertain  footing  of  the  un- 
trodden prairie  would  allow.  At  short  intervals  he 
would  dismount  and  crawl  to  the  top  of  the  hill  in 
order  to  keep  in  touch  with  the  Indian,  who  was  head- 
ing in  pretty  much  the  same  direction  as  himself.  A 
little  further  on  his  screening  hill  began  to  flatten  it- 
self out  and  finally  it  ran  down  into  a  wide  valley 
which  crossed  his  direction  at  right  angles.  He  made 
his  horse  lie  down,  still  in  the  shelter  of  the  hill,  and 
with  most  painful  care  he  crawled  on  hands  and  knees 
out  to  the  open  and  secured  a  point  of  vantage  from 
which  he  could  command  the  valley  which  ran  south- 
ward for  some  miles  till  it,  in  turn,  was  shut  in  by  a 
further  range  of  hills. 

He  was  rewarded  for  his  patience  and  care.  Far 
down  before  him  at  the  bottom  of  the  valley  a  line 
of  cattle  was  visible  and  hurrying  them  along  a  couple 
of  Indian  horsemen.  As  he  lay  watching  these  Indians 
he  observed  that  a  little  farther  on  this  line  was  aug- 
mented by  a  similar  line  from  the  east  driven  by  the 
Indian  he  had  first  observed,  and  by  two  others  who 
emerged  from  a  cross  valley  still  further  on.  Prone 
upon  his  face  he  lay,  with  his  eyes  on  that  double  line 
of  cattle  and  its  hustling  drivers.  The  raid  was  sure- 


288         THE    SUN   DANCE    TEAIL 

ly  on.  What  could  one  man  do  to  check  it?  Similar 
lines  of  cattle  were  coming  down  the  different  valleys 
and  would  all  mass  upon  the  old  Porcupine  Trail  and 
finally  pour  into  the  Sun  Dance  with  its  many  caves 
and  canyons.  There  was  much  that  was  mysterious 
in  this  movement  still  to  Cameron.  What  could  these 
Indians  do  with  this  herd  of  cattle?  The  mere  killing 
of  them  was  in  itself  a  vast  undertaking.  He  was  per- 
fectly familiar  with  the  Indian's  method  of  turning 
buffalo  meat,  and  later  beef,  into  pemmican,  but  the 
killing,  and  the  dressing,  and  the  rendering  of  the  fat, 
and  the  preparing  of  the  bags,  all  this  was  an  elab- 
orate and  laborious  process.  But  one  thing  was  clear 
to  his  mind.  At  all  costs  he  must  get  around  the  head 
of  these  converging  lines. 

He  waited  there  till  the  valley  was  clear  of  cattle 
and  Indians,  then,  mounting  his  horse,  he  pushed  hard 
across  the  valley  and  struck  a  parallel  trail  upon  the 
farther  side  of  the  hills.  Pursuing  this  trail  for  some 
miles,  he  crossed  still  another  range  of  hills  farther 
to  the  west  and  so  proceeded  till  he  came  within  touch 
of  the  broken  country  that  marks  the  division  between 
the  Foothills  and  the  Mountains.  He  had  not  many 
miles  before  him  now,  but  his  horse  was  failing  fast 
and  he  himself  was  half  dazed  with  weariness  and  ex- 
haustion. Night,  too,  was  falling  and  the  going  was 
rough  and  even  dangerous;  for  now  hillsides  sud- 
denly broke  off  into  sharp  cut-banks,  twenty,  thirty, 
forty  feet  high. 

It  was  one  of  these  cut-banks  that  was  his  undoing, 
for  in  the  dim  light  he  failed  to  note  that  the  sheep 
track  he  was  following  ended  thus  abruptly  till  it  was 
too  late.  Had  his  horse  been  fresh  he  could  easily 
have  recovered  himself,  but,  spent  as  he  was,  Ginger 


AN   OUTLAW,   BUT   A   MAN        289 

stumbled,  slid  and  finally  rolled  headlong  down  the 
steep  hillside  and  over  the  bank  on  to  the  rocks 
below.  Cameron  had  just  strength  to  throw  himself 
from  the  saddle  and,  scrambling  on  his  knees,  to  keep 
himself  from  following  his  horse.  Around  the  cut- 
bank  he  painfully  made  his  way  to  where  his  horse  lay 
with  his  leg  broken,  groaning  like  a  human  being  in 
his  pain. 

"Poor  old  boy!    You  are  done  at  last,"  he  said. 

But  there  was  no  time  to  indulge  regrets.  Those 
lines  of  cattle  were  swiftly  and  steadily  converging 
upon  the  Sun  Dance.  He  had  before  him  an  almost 
impossible  achievement.  "Well  he  knew  that  a  man  on 
foot  could  do  little  with  the  wild  range  cattle.  They 
would  speedily  trample  him  into  the  ground.  But  he 
must  go  on.  He  must  make  the  attempt. 

But  first  there  was  a  task  that  it  wrung  his  heart  to 
perform.  His  horse  must  be  put  out  of  pain.  He  took 
off  his  coat,  rolled  it  over  his  horse's  head,  inserted 
his  gun  under  its  folds  to  deaden  the  sound  and  to 
hide  those  luminous  eyes  turned  so  entreatingly  upon 
him. 

'  *  Old  boy,  you  have  done  your  duty,  and  so  must  I. 
Good-by,  old  chap ! ' '  He  pulled  the  fatal  trigger  and 
Ginger's  work  was  done. 

He  took  up  his  coat  and  set  off  once  more  upon  the 
winding  sheep  trail  that  he  guessed  would  bring  him 
to  the  Sun  Dance.  Dazed,  half  asleep,  numbed  with 
weariness  and  faint  with  hunger,  he  stumbled  on,  while 
the  stars  came  out  overhead  and  with  their  mild  radi- 
ance lit  up  his  rugged  way. 

Suddenly  he  found  himself  vividly  awake.  Diagon- 
ally across  the  face  of  the  hill  in  front  of  him,  a  few 
score  yards  away  and  moving  nearer,  a  horse  came 


290         THE   SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 

cantering.  Quickly  Cameron  dropped  behind  a  jut- 
ting rock.  Easily,  daintily,  with  never  a  slip  or  slide 
came  the  horse  till  he  became  clearly  visible  in  the 
starlight.  There  was  no  mistaking  that  horse  or  that 
rider.  No  other  horse  in  all  the  territories  could  take 
that  slippery,  slithery  hill  with  a  tread  so  light  and 
sure,  and  no  other  rider  in  the  Western  country  could 
handle  his  horse  with  such  easy,  steady  grace  among 
the  rugged  rocks  of  that  treacherous  hillside.  It  was 
Nighthawk  and  his  master. 

''Raven!"  breathed  Cameron  to  himself.  "Raven! 
Is  it  possible?  By  Jove!  I  would  not  have  believed 
it.  The  Superintendent  was  right  after  all.  He  is  a 
villain,  a  black-hearted  villain  too.  So,  he  is  the 
brains  behind  this  thing.  I  ought  to  have  known  it. 
Fool  that  I  was !  He  pulled  the  wool  over  my  eyes  all 
right." 

The  rage  that  surged  up  through  his  heart  stimu- 
lated his  dormant  energies  into  new  life.  With  a  deep 
oath  Cameron  pulled  out  both  his  guns  and  set  off  up 
the  hill  on  the  trail  of  the  disappearing  horseman. 
His  weariness  fell  from  him  like  a  coat,  the  spring 
came  back  to  his  muscles,  clearness  to  his  brain.  He 
was  ready  for  his  best  fight  and  he  knew  it  lay  before 
him.  Swiftly,  lightly  he  ran  up  the  hillside.  At  the 
top  he  paused  amazed.  Before  him  lay  a  large  Indian 
encampment  with  rows  upon  rows  of  tents  and  camp 
fires  with  kettles  swinging,  and  everywhere  Indians 
and  squaws  moving  about.  Skirting  the  camp  and  still 
keeping  to  the  side  of  the  hill,  he  came  upon  a  stout 
new-built  fence  that  ran  straight  down  an  incline  to  a 
steep  cut-bank  with  a  sheer  drop  of  thirty  feet  or 
more.  Like  a  flash  the  meaning  of  it  came  upon  him. 
This  was  to  be  the  end  of  the  drive.  Here  the  cattle 


AN   OUTLAW,   BUT   A   MAN        291 

were  to  meet  their  death.  Here  it  was  that  the  pemmi- 
can  was  to  be  made.  On  the  hillside  opposite  there 
was  doubtless  a  similar  fence  and  these  two  would  con- 
stitute the  fatal  funnel  down  which  the  cattle  were  to 
be  stampeded  over  the  cut-bank  to  their  destruction. 
This  was  the  nefarious  scheme  planned  by  Kaven  and 
his  treacherous  allies. 

Swiftly  Cameron  turned  and  followed  the  fence  up 
the  incline  some  three  or  four  hundred  yards  from  the 
cut-bank.  At  its  upper  end  the  fence  curved  outward 
for  some  distance  upon  a  wide  upland  valley,  then 
ceased  altogether.  Such  was  the  slope  of  the  hill  that 
no  living  man  could  turn  a  herd  of  cattle  once  entered 
upon  that  steep  incline. 

Down  the  hill,  across  the  valley  and  up  the  other 
side  ran  Cameron,  keeping  low  and  carefully  picking 
his  way  among  the  loose  stones  till  he  came  to  the 
other  fence  which,  curving  similarly  outward,  made 
with  its  fellow  a  perfectly  completed  funnel.  Once 
between  the  curving  lips  of  this  funnel  nothing  could 
save  the  rushing,  crowding  cattle  from  the  deadly  cut- 
bank  below. 

' '  Oh,  if  I  only  had  my  horse, ' '  groaned  Cameron,  ' '  I 
might  have  a  chance  to  turn  them  off  just  here. ' ' 
.  At  the  point  at  which  he  stood  the  slope  of  the  hill- 
side fell  somewhat  toward  the  left  and  away  slightly 
from  the  mouth  of  the  funnel.  A  skilled  cowboy  with 
sufficient  nerve,  on  a  first-class  horse,  might  turn  the 
herd  away  from  the  cut-bank  into  the  little  coulee  that 
led  down  from  the  end  of  the  fence,  but  for  a  man  on 
foot  the  thing  was  quite  impossible.  He  determined, 
however,  to  make  the  effort.  No  man  can  certainly 
tell  how  cattle  will  behave  when  excited  and  at  night. 

As  he  stood  there  rapidly  planning  how  to  divert. 


292         THE   SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

the  rush  of  cattle  from  that  deadly  funnel,  there  rose 
on  the  still  night  air  a  soft  rumbling  sound  like  low 
and  distant  thunder.  That  sound  Cameron  knew  only 
too  well.  It  was  the  pounding  of  two  hundred  steers 
upon  the  resounding  prairie.  He  rushed  back  again 
to  the  right  side  of  the  fenced  runway,  and  then  for- 
ward to  meet  the  coming  herd.  A  half  moon  rising 
over  the  round  top  of  the  hill  revealed  the  black  surg- 
ing mass  of  steers,  their  hoofs  pounding  like  distant 
artillery,  their  horns  rattling  like  a  continuous  crash 
of  riflery.  Before  them  at  a  distance  of  a  hundred 
yards  or  more  a  mounted  Indian  rode  toward  the 
farther  side  of  the  funnel  and  took  his  stand  at  the 
very  spot  at  which  there  was  some  hope  of  diverting 
the  rushing  herd  from  the  cut-bank  down  the  side 
coulee  to  safety. 

"That  man  has  got  to  go,"  said  Cameron  to  him- 
self, drawing  his  gun.  But  before  he  could  level  it 
there  shot  out  from  the  dim  light  behind  the  Indian  a 
man  on  horseback.  Like  a  lion  on  its  prey  the  horse 
leaped  with  a  wicked  scream  at  the  Indian  pony.  Be- 
fore that  furious  leap  both  man  and  pony  went  down 
and  rolled  over  and  over  in  front  of  the  pounding 
herd.  Over  the  prostrate  pony  leaped  the  horse  and 
up  the  hillside  fair  in  the  face  of  that  rushing  mass 
of  maddened  steers.  Straight  across  their  face  sped 
the  horse  and  his  rider,  galloping  lightly,  with  never 
a  swerve  or  hesitation,  then  swiftly  wheeling  as  the 
steers  drew  almost  level  with  him  ae  darted  furiously 
on  their  flank  and  rode  close  at  their  noses.  "Crack! 
Crack!"  rang  the  rider's  revolver,  and  two  steers  in 
the  far  flank  dropped  to  the  earth  while  over  them 
surged  the  following  herd.  Again  the  revolver  rang 
out,  once,  twice,  thrice,  and  at  each  crack  a  leader  on 


AN   OUTLAW,   BUT   A   MAN        293 

the  flank  farthest  away  plunged  down  and  was  sub- 
merged by  the  rushing  tide  behind.  For  an  instant 
the  column  faltered  on  its  left  and  slowly  began  to 
swerve  in  that  direction.  Then  upon  the  leaders  of  the 
right  flank  the  black  horse  charged  furiously,  biting, 
kicking,  plunging  like  a  thing  possessed  of  ten  thou- 
sand devils.  Steadily,  surely  the  line  continued  to 
swerve. 

"My  God!"  cried  Cameron,  unable  to  believe  his 
eyes.  "They  are  turning!  They  are  turned!" 

With  wild  cries  and  discharging  his  revolver  fair 
in  the  face  of  the  leaders,  Cameron  rushed  out  into  the 
open  and  crossed  the  mouth  of  the  funnel. 

"Go  back,  you  fool!  Go  back!"  yelled  the  man  on 
horseback.  ' '  Go  back !  I  have  them ! ' '  He  was  right. 
Cameron's  sudden  appearance  gave  the  final  and  nec- 
essary touch  to  the  swerving  movement.  Across  the 
mouth  of  the  funnel  with  its  yawning  deadly  cut-bank, 
and  down  the  side  coulee,  carrying  part  of  the  fence 
with  them,  the  herd  crashed  onward,  with  the  black 
horse  hanging  on  their  flank  still  biting  and  kicking 
with  a  kind  of  joyous  fury. 

"Raven!  Raven!"  cried  Cameron  in  glad  accents. 
"It  is  Raven!  Thank  God,  he  is  straight  after  all!" 
A  great  tide  of  gratitude  and  admiration  for  the  out- 
law was  welling  up  in  his  heart.  But  even  as  he  ran 
there  thundered  past  him  an  Indian  on  horseback, 
the  reins  flying  loose  and  a  rifle  in  his  hands.  As  he 
flashed  past  a  gleam  of  moonlight  caught  his  face,  the 
face  of  a  demon. 

' '  Little  Thunder ! ' '  cried  Cameron,  whipping  out  his 
gun  and  firing,  but  with  no  apparent  effect,  at  the  fly- 
ing figure. 


294         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

With  his  gun  still  in  his  hand,  Cameron  ran  on 
down  the  coulee  in  the  wake  of  Little  Thunder.  Far 
away  could  be  heard  the  roar  of  the  rushing  herd,  but 
nothing  could  be  seen  of  Raven.  Running  as  he  had 
never  run  in  his  life,  Cameron  followed  hard  upon  the 
Indian's  track,  who  was  by  this  time  some  hundred 
yards  in  advance.  Suddenly  in  the  moonlight,  and 
far  down  the  coulee,  Raven  could  be  seen  upon  his 
black  horse  cantering  easily  up  the  slope  and  toward 
the  swiftly  approaching  Indian. 

* '  Raven !  Raven ! ' '  shouted  Cameron,  firing  his  gun. 
"On  guard!  On  guard !" 

Raven  heard,  looked  up  and  saw  the  Indian  bearing 
down  upon  him.,  His  horse,  too,  saw  the  approaching 
foe  and,  gathering  himself,  in  two  short  leaps  rushed 
like  a  whirlwind  at  him,  but,  swerving  aside,  the  In- 
dian avoided  the  charging  stallion.  Cameron  saw  his 
rifle  go  up  to  his  shoulder,  a  shot  reverberated  through 
the  coulee,  Raven  swayed  in  his  saddle.  A  second  shot 
and  the  black  horse  was  fair  upon  the  Indian  pony, 
hurling  him  to  the  ground  and  falling  himself  upon 
him.  As  the  Indian  sprang  to  his  feet  Raven  was 
upon  him.  fie  gripped  him  by  the  throat  and  shook 
him  as  a  dog  shakes  a  rat.  Once,  twice,  his  pistol  fell 
upon  the  snarling  face  and  the  Indian  crumpled  up 
and  lay  still,  battered  to  death. 

'  *  Thank  God ! ' '  cried  Cameron,  as  he  came  up,  strug- 
gling with  his  sobbing  breath.  "You  have  got  the 
beast." 

"Yes,  I  have  got  him,"  said  Raven,  with  his  hand  to 
his  side,  "but  I  guess  he  has  got  me  too.    And— 
he  paused.    His  eye  fell  upon  his  horse  lying  upon  his 
side  and  feebly  kicking — ' i  ah,  I  fear  he  has  got  you  as 
well,  Nighthawk,  old  boy. "    As  he  staggered  over  to- 


AN   OUTLAW,   BUT   A   MAN        295 

ward  his  horse  the  sound  of  galloping  hoofs  was  heard 
coming  down  the  coulee. 

1  'Here  are  some  more  of  them!"  cried  Cameron, 
drawing  out  his  guns. 

' '  All  right,  Cameron,  my  boy,  just  back  up  here  be- 
side me,"  said  Eaven,  as  he  coolly  loaded  his  empty 
revolver.  ''"We  can  send  a  few  more  of  these  devils  to 
hell.  You  are  a  good  sport,  old  chap,  and  I  want  to  go 
out  in  no  better  company." 

"Hold  up!"  cried  Cameron.  "There  is  a  woman. 
Why,  there  is  a  Policeman.  They  are  friends,  Eaven. 
It  is  the  doctor  and  Moira.  Hurrah!  Here  you  are, 
Martin.  Quick !  Quick !  Oh,  my  God !  He  is  dying ! ' ' 

Eaven  had  sunk  to  his  knees  beside  his  horse.  They 
gathered  round  him,  a  Mounted  Police  patrol  picked 
up  on  the  way  by  Dr.  Martin,  Moira  who  had  come 
to  show  them  the  trail,  and  Smith. 

"Nighthawk,  old  boy,"  they  heard  Eaven  say,  his 
hand  patting  the  shoulder  of  the  noble  animal,  "he 
has  done  for  you,  I  fear."  His  voice  came  in  broken 
sobs.  The  great  horse  lifted  his  beautiful  head  and 
looked  round  toward  his  master.  "Ah,  my  boy,  we 
have  done  many  a  journey  together!"  cried  Eaven 
as  he  threw  his  arm  around  the  glossy  neck,  "and  on 
this  last  one  too  we  shall  not  be  far  apart."  The 
horse  gave  a  slight  whinny,  nosed  into  his  mas- 
ter's hand  and  laid  his  head  down  again.  A  slight 
quiver  of  the  limbs  and  he  was  still  for  ever. 
"Ah,  he  has  gone!"  cried  Eaven,  "my  best,  my  only 
friend. ' ' 

"No,  no,"  cried  Cameron,  "you  are  with  friends 
now,  Eaven,  old  man."  He  offered  his  hand.  Eaven 
took  it  wonderingly. 

"You  mean  it,  Cameron?" 


296         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

"Yes,  with  all  my  heart.  You  are  a  true  man,  if 
God  ever  made  one,  and  you  have  shown  it  to-night." 

"Ah!"  said  Raven,  with  a  kind  of  sigh  as  he  sank 
back  and  leaned  up  against  his  horse.  * '  That  is  good 
to  hear.  It  is  long  since  I  have  had  a  friend." 

"Quick,  Martin!"  said  Cameron.  "He  is 
wounded. ' ' 

"What!  Where!"  said  the  doctor,  kneeling  down 
beside  him  and  tearing  open  his  coat  and  vest.  "Oh, 
my  God!"  cried  the  doctor.  "He  is "  The  doc- 
tor paused  abruptly. 

"What  do  you  say?  Oh,  Dr.  Martin,  he  is  not  badly 
wounded?"  Moira  threw  herself  on  her  knees  beside 
the  wounded  man  and  caught  his  hand.  * '  Oh,  it  is  cold, 
cold, ' '  she  cried  through  rushing  tears.  ' '  Can  you  not 
help  him?  Oh,  you  must  not  let  him  die." 

"Surely  he  is  not  dying?"  said  Cameron. 

The  doctor  was  silently  and  swiftly  working  with 
his  syringe. 

"How  long,  Doctor?"  inquired  Raven  in  a  quiet 
voice. 

"Half  an  hour,  perhaps  less,"  said  the  doctor 
brokenly.  "Have  you  any  pain?" 

"No,  very  little.  It  is  quite  easy.  Cameron,"  he 
said,  his  voice  beginning  to  fail,  "I  want  you  to  send 
a  letter  which  you  will  find  in  my  pocket  addressed  to 
my  brother.  Tell  no  one  the  name.  And  add  this, 
that  I  forgive  him.  It  was  really  not  worth  while," 
he  added  wearily,  "to  hate  him  so.  And  say  to  the 
Superintendent  I  was  on  the  straight  with  him,  with 
you  all,  with  my  country  in  this  rebellion  business.  I 
heard  about  this  raid;  and  I  fancy  I  have  rather 
spoiled  their  pemmican.  I  have  run  some  cattle  in  my 
time,  but  you  know,  Cameron,  a  fellow  who  has  worn 


AN   OUTLAW,   BUT   A   MAN        297 

the  uniform  could  not  mix  in  with  these  beastly  breeds 
against  the  Queen,  God  bless  her!" 

"Oh,  Dr.  Martin,"  cried  the  girl  piteously,  shaking 
him  by  the  arm,  "do  not  tell  me  you  can  do  nothing. 
Try — try  something."  She  began  again  to  chafe  the 
cold  hand,  her  tears  falling  upon  it. 

Raven  looked  up  quickly  at  her. 

"You  are  weeping  for  me,  Miss  Moira?"  he  said, 
surprise  and  wonder  in  his  face.  "For  me?  A  horse- 
thief,  an  outlaw,  for  me!  I  thank  you.  And  forgive 
me — may  I  kiss  your  hand?"  He  tried  feebly  to  lift 
her  hand  to  his  lips. 

"No,  no,"  cried  the  girl.  "Not  my  hand!"  and 
leaning  over  him  she  kissed  him  on  the  brow.  His 
eyes  were  still  upon  her. 

' '  Thank  you, ' '  he  said  feebly,  a  rare,  beautiful  smile 
lighting  up  the  white  face.  "You  make  me  believe  in 
God's  mercy." 

There  was  a  quick  movement  in  the  group  and 
Smith  was  kneeling  beside  the  dying  man. 

"God's  mercy,  Mr.  Raven,"  he  said  in  an  eager 
voice,  "is  infinite.  Why  should  you  not  believe  in 
it?" 

Raven  looked  at  him  curiously. 

"Oh,  yes,"  he  said  with  a  quaintly  humorous  smile, 
"you  are  the  chap  that  chucked  Jerry  away  from  the 
door?" 

Smith  nodded,  then  said  earnestly: 

"Mr.  Raven,  you  must  believe  in  God's  mercy." 

"God's  mercy,"  said  the  dying  man  slowly.  "Yes, 
God's  mercy.  What  is  it  again?  'God — be — merciful 
—to  me — a  sinner.'  "  Once  more  he  opened  his  eyes 
and  let  them  rest  upon  the  face  of  the  girl  bending 
over  him.  "Yes,"  he  said,  "you  helped  me  to  believe 


298         THE    SUN  DANCE   TRAIL 

in  God 's  mercy. ' '  With  a  sigh  as  of  content  he  settled 
himself  quietly  against  the  shoulders  of  his  dead 
horse. 

"Good  old  comrade,"  he  said,  "good-by!"  He 
closed  his  eyes  and  drew  a  deep  breath.  They  waited 
for  another,  but  there  was  no  more. 

' '  He  is  gone, ' '  said  the  doctor. 

' '  Gone ! ' '  cried  Moira.  '  '  Gone  ?  Ochone,  but  he  was 
the  gallant  gentleman!"  she  wailed,  lapsing  into  her 
Highland  speech.  "Oh,  but  he  had  the  brave  heart 
and  the  true  heart.  Ochone!  Ochone!"  She  swayed 
back  and  forth  upon  her  knees  with  hands  clasped  and 
tears  running  down  her  cheeks,  bending  over  the  white 
face  that  lay  so  still  in  the  moonlight  and  touched  with 
the  majesty  of  death. 

"Come,  Moira!  Come,  Moira!"  said  her  brother 
surprised  at  her  unwonted  display  of  emotion.  "You 
must  control  yourself." 

"Leave  her  alone.  Let  her  cry.  She  is  in  a  hard 
spot, ' '  said  Dr.  Martin  in  a  sharp  voice  in  which  grief 
and  despair  were  mingled. 

Cameron  glanced  at  his  friend's  face.  It  was  the 
face  of  a  haggard  old  man. 

"You  are  used  up,  old  boy,"  he  said  kindly,  pub- 
ting  his  hand  on  the  doctor's  arm.  "You  need  rest." 

"Rest?"  said  the  doctor.  "Rest?  Not  I.  But  you 
do.  And  you  too,  Miss  Moira,"  he  added  gently. 
* ;  Come, ' '  giving  her  his  hand,  ' '  you  must  get  home. ' ' 
There  was  in  his  voice  a  tone  of  command  that  mad* 
the  girl  look  up  quickly  and  obey. 

"And  you?"  she  said.    "You  must  be  done." 

"Done?  Yes,  but  what  matter?  Take  her  horn*, 
Cameron. ' ' 

"And  what  about  you?"  inquired  Cameron. 


AN   OUTLAW,   BUT   A   MAN        299 

"  Smith,  the  constable  and  I  will  look  after — him — 
and  the  horse.  Send  a  wagon  to-morrow  morning. ' ' 

"Without  further  word  the  brother  and  sister 
mounted  their  horses. 

"Good-by,  old  man.  See  you  to-morrow,"  said 
Cameron. 

"Good-night,"  said  the  doctor  shortly. 

The  girl  gave  him  her  hand. 

" Good-night,"  she  said  simply,  her  eyes  full  of 
a  dumb  pain. 

"Good-by,  Miss  Moira,"  said  the  doctor,  who  held 
her  hand  for  just  a  moment  as  if  to  speak  again,  then 
abruptly  he  turned  his  back  on  her  without  further 
word  and  so  stood  with  never  a  glance  more  after 
her.  It  was  for  him  a  final  farewell  to  hopes  that  had 
lived  with  him  and  had  warmed  his  heart  for  the  past 
three  years.  Now  they  were  dead,  dead  as  the  dead 
man  upon  whose  white  still  face  he  stood  looking  down. 

11  Thief,  murderer,  outlaw,"  he  muttered  to  himself. 
"Sure  enough — sure  enough.  And  yet  you  could  not 
help  it,  nor  could  she."  But  he  was  not  thinking  of 
the  dead  man's  record  in  the  books  of  the  Mounted 
Police. 


300         THE   SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 
CHAPTER  XIX 

THE   GREAT   CHIEF 

ON  the  rampart  of  hills  overlooking  the  Piegan 
encampment  the  sun  was  shining  pleasantly. 
The  winter,  after  its  final  savage  kick,  had 
ranished  and  summer,  crowding  hard  upon  spring, 
was  wooing  the  bluffs  and  hillsides  on  their  southern 
exposures  to  don  their  summer  robes  of  green.  Not 
yet  had  the  bluffs  and  hillsides  quite  yielded  to  the 
wooing,  not  yet  had  they  donned  the  bright  green  ap- 
parel of  summer,  but  there  was  the  promise  of  sum- 
mer's color  gleaming  through  the  neutral  browns  and 
grays  of  the  poplar  bluffs  and  the  sunny  hillsides. 
The  crocuses  with  reckless  abandon  had  sprung  forth 
at  the  first  warm  kiss  of  the  summer  sun  and  stood 
bravely,  gaily  dancing  in  their  purple  and  gray,  till 
whole  hillsides  blushed  for  them.  And  the  poplars, 
hesitating  with  dainty  reserve,  shivered  in  shy  antici- 
pation and  waited  for  .-a  surer  call,  still  wearing  their 
neutral  tints,  except  where  they  stood  sheltered  by  the 
thick  spruces  from  the  surly  north  wind.  There  they 
had  boldly  cast  aside  all  prudery  and  were  flirting  in 
all  their  gallant  trappings  with  the  ardent  summer. 

Seeing  none  of  all  this,  but  dimly  conscious  of  the 
good  of  it,  Cameron  and  his  faithful  attendant  Jerry 
lay  grimly  watching  through  the  poplars.  Three  days 
had  passed  since  the  raid,  and  as  yet  there  was  no  sign 
at  the  Piegan  camp  of  the  returning  raiders.  Not 
for  one  hour  had  the  camp  remained  unwatched.  Just 
long  enough  to  bury  his  new-made  friend,  the  dead 
outlaw,  did  Cameron  himself  quit  the  post,  leaving 
Jerry  on  guard  meantime,  and  now  he  was  back  again, 


THE   GREAT   CHIEF  301 

with  his  glasses  searching  every  corner  of  the  Piegan 
camp  and  watching  every  movement.  There  was  upon 
his  face  a  look  that  filled  with  joy  his  watchful  com- 
panion, a  look  that  proclaimed  his  set  resolve  that 
when  Eagle  Feather  and  his  young  men  should  appear 
in  camp  there  would  speedily  be  swift  and  decisive 
action.  For  three  days  his  keen  eyes  had  looked  forth 
through  the  delicate  green-brown  screen  of  poplar 
upon  the  doings  of  the  Piegans,  the  Mounted  Police 
meantime  ostentatiously  beating  up  the  Blood  Reserve 
with  unwonted  threats  of  vengeance  for  the  raiders, 
the  bruit  of  which  had  spread  through  all  the  re- 
serves. 

"Don't  do  anything  rash,"  the  Superintendent  had 
admonished,  as  Cameron  appeared  demanding  three 
troopers  and  Jerry,  with  whom  to  execute  vengeance 
upon  those  who  had  brought  death  to  a  gallant  gentle- 
man and  his  gallant  steed,  for  both  of  whom  there  had 
sprung  up  in  Cameron's  heart  a  great  and  admiring 
affection. 

"No,  sir,"  Cameron  had  replied,  "nothing  rash;  we 
will  do  a  little  justice,  that  is  all,"  but  with  so  stern 
a  face  that  the  Superintendent  had  watched  him  away 
with  some  anxiety  and  had  privately  ordered  a  strong 
patrol  to  keep  the  Piegan  camp  under  surveillance  till 
Cameron  had  done  his  work.  But  there  was  no  call 
for  aid  from  any  patrol,  as  it  turned  out;  and  before 
this  bright  summer  morning  had  half  passed  away 
Cameron  shut  up  his  glasses,  ready  for  action. 

"I  think  they  are  all  in  now,  Jerry,  he  said.  "We 
will  go  down.  Go  and  bring  in  the  men.  There  is  that 
devil  Eagle  Feather  just  riding  in."  Cameron's  teeth 
went  hard  together  on  the  name  of  the  Chief,  in  whom 


302         THE    SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 

the  leniency  of  Police  administration  of  justice  had 
bred  only  a  deeper  treachery. 

Within  half  an  hour  Cameron  with  his  three  troop- 
ers and  Jerry  rode  jingling  into  the  Piegan  camp  and 
disposed  themselves  at  suitable  points  of  vantage. 
Straight  to  the  Chief's  tent  Cameron  rode,  and  found 
Trotting  Wolf  standing  at  its  door. 

"I  want  that  cattle- thief,  Eagle  Feather,"  he  an- 
nounced in  a  clear,  firm  voice  that  rang  through  the 
encampment  from  end  to  end. 

"Eagle  Feather  not  here,"  was  Trotting  Wolf's 
sullen  but  disturbed  reply. 

' '  Trotting  Wolf,  I  will  waste  no  time  on  you, ' '  said 
Cameron,  drawing  his  gun.  ' '  I  take  Eagle  Feather  or 
you.  Make  your  choice  and  quick  about  it!"  There 
was  in  Cameron 's  voice  a  ring  of  such  compelling  com- 
mand that  Trotting  Wolf  weakened  visibly. 

"I  know  not  where  Eagle  Feather 

'  *  Halt  there ! ' '  cried  Cameron  to  an  Indian  who  was 
seen  to  be  slinking  away  from  the  rear  of  the  line  of 
tents. 

The  Indian  broke  into  a  run.  Like  a  whirlwind 
Cameron  was  on  his  trail  and  before  he  had  gained  the 
cover  of  the  woods  had  overtaken  him. 

* '  Halt ! ' '  cried  Cameron  again  as  he  reached  the  In- 
dian's  side.  The  Indian  stopped  and  drew  a  knife. 
"You  would,  eh?  Take  that,  will  you?"  Leaning 
down  over  his  horse's  neck  Cameron  struck  the  In- 
dian with  the  butt  of  his  gun.  Before  he  could  rise 
the  three  constables  in  a  converging  rush  were  upon 
him  and  had  him  handcuffed. 

"Now  then,  where  is  Eagle  Feather?"  cried  Cam- 
eron in  a  furious  voice,  riding  his  horse  into  the  crowd 
that  had  gathered  thick  about  him.  "Ah,  I  see  you," 


THE   GREAT    CHIEF  303 

he  cried,  touching  his  horse  with  his  heel  as  on  the 
farther  edge  of  the  crowd  he  caught  sight  of  his  man. 
With  a  single  bound  his  horse  was  within  touch  of  the 
shrinking  Indian.  "Stand  where  you  are!"  cried 
Cameron,  springing  from  his  horse  and  striding  to 
the  Chief.  "Put  up  your  hands!"  he  said,  covering 
him  with  his  gun.  "Quick,  you  dog!"  he  added,  as 
Eagle  Feather  stood  irresolute  before  him.  Upon  the 
uplifted  hands  Cameron  slipped  the  handcuffs. 
* '  Come  with  me,  you  cattle-thief 2 ' '  he  said,  seizing  him 
by  the  gaudy  handkerchief  that  adorned  his  neck,  and 
giving  him  a  quick  jerk. 

' '  Trotting  "Wolf, ' '  said  Cameron  in  a  terrible  voice, 
wheeling  furiously  upon  the  Chief,  "this  cattle-thiev- 
ing of  your  band  must  stop.  I  want  the  six  men  who 
were  in  that  cattle-raid,  or  you  come  with  me.  Speak 
quick!"  he  added. 

"By  Gar!"  said  Jerry,  hugging  himself  in  his  de- 
light, to  the  trooper  who  w^as  in  charge  of  the  first 
Indian.  "Look  lak'  he  tak'  de  whole  camp." 

"By  Jove,  Jerry,  it  looks  so  to  me,  too !  He  has  got 
the  fear  of  death  on  these  chappies.  Look  at  his  face. 
He  looks  like  the  very  devil. ' ' 

It  was  true.  Cameron's  face  was  gray,  with  purple 
blotches,  and  distorted  with  passion,  his  eyes  were 
blazing  with  fury,  his  manner  one  of  reckless  savage 
abandon.  There  was  but  little  delay.  The  rumors  of 
vengeance  stored  up  for  the  raiders,  the  paralyzing 
effect  of  the  failure  of  the  raid,  the  condemnation  of  a 
{r.iilty  conscience,  but  above  all  else  the  overmastering 
]  age  of  Cameron,  made  anything  like  resistance  sim- 
ply impossible.  In  a  very  few  minutes  Cameron  had 
his  prisoners  in  line  and  was  riding  to  the  Fort,  where 
he  handed  them  over  to  the  Superintendent  for  justice. 


304         THE   SUN  DANCE   TBAIL 

That  business  done,  he  found  his  patrol-work  press- 
ing upon  him  with  a  greater  insistence  than  ever,  for 
the  runners  from  the  half-breeds  and  the  Northern  In- 
dians were  daily  arriving  at  the  reserves  bearing  re- 
ports of  rebel  victories  of  startling  magnitude.  But 
even  without  any  exaggeration  tales  grave  enough 
were  being  carried  from  lip  to  lip  throughout  the  In- 
dian tribes.  Small  wonder  that  the  irresponsible 
young  Chiefs,  chafing  under  the  rule  of  the  white  man 
and  thirsting  for  the  mad  rapture  of  fight,  were  strain- 
ing almost  to  the  breaking  point  the  authority  of  the 
cooler  older  heads,  so  that  even  that  subtle  redskin 
statesman,  Crowfoot,  began  to  fear  for  bis  own  posi- 
tion in  the  Blackf eet  confederacy. 

As  the  days  went  on  the  Superintendent  at  Macleod, 
whose  duty  it  was  to  hold  tit  statu  quo  that  difficult 
country  running  up  into  the  mountains  and  down  to 
the  American  boundary-line,  found  his  task  one  that 
would  have  broken  a  less  cool-headed  and  stout- 
hearted officer. 

The  situation  in  which  he  found  himself  seemed  al- 
most to  invite  destruction.  On  the  eighteenth  of 
March  he  had  sent  the  best  of  his  men,  some  twenty- 
five  of  them,  with  his  Inspector,  to  join  the  Alberta 
Field  Force  at  Calgary,  whence  they  made  that  famous 
march  to  Edmonton  of  over  two  hundred  miles  in  four 
and  a  half  marching  days.  From  Calgary,  too,  had 
gone  a  picked  body  of  Police  with  Superintendent 
Strong  and  his  scouts  as  part  of  the  Alberta  Field 
Force  under  General  Strange.  Thus  it  came  that  by 
the  end  of  April  the  Superintendent  at  Fort  Macleod 
had  under  his  command  only  a  handful  of  his  trained 
Police,  supported  by  two  or  three  companies  of  Militia 
— who,  witn  all  their  ardor,  were  unskilled  in  plain- 


THE   GREAT   CHIEF  305 

craft,  strange  to  the  country,  new  to  war,  ignorant  of 
the  habits  and  customs  and  temper  of  the  Indians  with 
whom  they  were  supposed  to  deal — to  hold  the  vast 
extent  of  territory  under  his  charge,  with  its  little  scat- 
tered hamlets  of  settlers,  safe  in  the  presence  of  the 
largest  and  most  warlike  of  the  Indian  tribes  in  West- 
ern Canada, 

Every  day  the  strain  became  more  intense.  A  crisis 
appeared  to  be  reached  when  the  news  came  that  on 
the  twenty-fourth  of  April  General  Middleton  had  met 
a  check  at  Fish  Creek,  which,  though  not  specially  seri- 
ous in  itself,  revealed  the  possibilities  of  the  rebel 
strategy  and  gave  heart  to  the  enemy  immediately 
engage-:!. 

And,  though  Fish  Creek  was  no  great  fight,  the 
rumor  of  it  ran  through  the  Western  reserves  like  red 
fire  through  prairie-grass,  blowing  almost  into  flame 
the  war-spirit  of  the  young  braves  of  the  Bloods,  Pie- 
gans  and  Sarcees  and  even  of  the  more  stable  Black- 
feet.  Three  days  after  that  check,  the  news  of  it  was 
humming  through  every  tepee  in  the  West,  and  for 
a  week  or  more  it  took  all  the  cool  courage  and  steady 
nerve  characteristic  of  the  Mounted  Police  to  enable 
them  to  ride  without  flurry  or  hurry  their  daily  patrols 
through  the  reserves, 

At  this  crisis  it  was  that  the  Superintendent  at 
Macleod  gathered  together  such  of  his  officers  and 
non-commissioned  officers  as  he  could  in  council  at 
Fort  Calgary,  to  discuss  the  situation  and  to  plan  for 
all  possible  emergencies.  The  full  details  of  the  Fish 
Creek  affair  had  just  come  in.  They  were  disquieting 
enough,  although  the  Superintendent  made  fight  of 
them.  On  the  wall  of  the  barrack-room  where  the 
council  was  gathered  there  hung  a  large  map  of  the 


306         THE   SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 

Territories.  The  Superintendent,  a  man  of  small  ora- 
torical powers,  undertook  to  set  forth  the  disposition 
of  the  various  forces  now  operating  in  the  West. 

' '  Here  you  observe  the  main  line  running  west  from 
Regina  to  the  mountains,  some  five  hundred  and  fifty 
miles,"  he  said.  "And  here,  roughly,  two  hundred 
and  fifty  miles  north,  is  the  northern  boundary  line 
of  our  settlements,  Prince  Albert  at  the  east,  Battle- 
ford  at  the  center,  Edmonton  at  the  west,  each  of  these 
points  the  center  of  a  country  ravaged  by  half -breeds 
and  bands  of  Indians.  To  each  of  these  points  relief- 
expeditions  have  been  sent. 

"This  line  represents  the  march  of  Commissioner 
Irvine  from  Eegina  to  Prince  Albert — a  most  remark- 
able march  that  was  too,  gentlemen,  nearly  three  hun- 
dred miles  over  snow-bound  country  in  about  seven 
days.  That  march  will  be  remembered,  I  venture  to 
say.  The  Commissioner  still  holds  Prince  Albert,  and 
we  may  rely  upon  it  will  continue  to  hold  it  safe 
against  any  odds.  Meantime  he  is  scouting  the  coun- 
try round  about,  preventing  Indians  from  reinforcing 
the  enemy  in  any  large  numbers. 

"Next,  to  the  west  is  Battleford,  which  holds  the 
central  position  and  is  the  storm-center  of  the  rebel- 
lion at  present.  This  line  shows  the  march  of  Colonel 
Otter  with  Superintendent  Herchmer  from  Swift  Cur- 
rent to  that  point.  "We  have  just  heard  that  Colonel 
Otter  has  arrived  at  Battleford  and  has  raised  the 
siege.  But  large  bands  of  Indians  are  in  the  vicinity 
of  Battleford  and  the  situation  there  is  extremely  crit- 
ical. I  understand  that  old  Oo-pee-too-korah-han-ap- 
ee-wee-yin — "  the  Superintendent  prided  himself  upon 
his  mastery  of  Indian  names  and  ran  off  this  poly- 
syllabic cognomen  with  the  utmost  facility — "the 


THE    GREAT    CHIEF  307 

Pond-maker,  or  Pound-maker  as  he  has  come  to  be 
called,  is  in  the  neighborhood.  He  is  not  a  bad  fellow, 
but  he  is  a  man  of  unusual  ability,  far  more  able  than 
Kah-mee-yes-too-waegs  of  the  "Willow  Crees,  Beardy, 
as  he  is  called,  though  not  so  savage,  and  he  has  a 
large  and  compact  body  of  Indians  under  him. 

"Then  here  straight  north  from  us  some  two  hun- 
dred miles  is  Edmonton,  the  center  of  a  very  wide 
district  sparsely  settled,  with  a  strong  half-breed  ele- 
ment in  the  immediate  neighborhood  and  Big  Bear  and 
Little  Pine  commanding  large  bodies  of  Indians  ravag- 
ing the  country  round  about.  Inspector  Griesbach  is 
in  command  of  this  district,  located  at  Fort  Saskatche- 
wan, which  is  in  close  touch  with  Edmonton.  General 
Strange,  commanding  the  Alberta  Field  Force  and 
several  companies  of  Militia,  together  with  our  own 
men  under  Superintendent  Strong  and  Inspector  Dick- 
son,  are  on  the  way  to  relieve  this  post.  Inspector 
Dickson,  I  understand,  has  successfully  made  the 
crossing  of  the  Eed  Deer  with  his  nine  pr.  gun,  a 
quite  remarkable  feat  I  assure  you. 

"But,  gentlemen,  you  see  the  position  in  which  we 
are  placed  in  this  section  of  the  country.  From  the 
Cypress  Hills  here  away  to  the  southeast,  westward 
to  the  mountains  and  down  to  the  boundary-line,  you 
have  a  series  of  reserves  almost  completely  denuded  of 
Police  supervision.  True,  we  are  fortunate  in  having 
at  the  Blackfoot  Crossing,  at  Fort  Calgary  and  at 
Fort  Macleod,  companies  of  Militia;  but  the  very 
presence  of  these  troops  incites  the  Indians,  and  in 
some  ways  is  a  continual  source  of  unrest  among 
them. 

"Every  day  runners  from  the  North  and  East  come 
to  our  reserves  with  extraordinarv  tales  of  rebel  vie- 


308         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

tories.  This  Fish  Creek  business  has  had  a  tremen- 
dous influence  upon  the  younger  element.  On  every 
reserve  there  are  scores  of  young  braves  eager  to 
rise.  What  a  general  uprising  would  mean  you  know, 
or  think  you  know.  An  Indian  war  of  extermination 
is  a  horrible  possibility.  The  question  before  us  all 
is — what  is  to  be  done?" 

After  a  period  of  conversation  the  Superintendent 
summed  up  the  results  of  the  discussion  in  a  few  short 
sentences : 

"It  seems,  gentlemen,  there  is  not  much  more  to  be 
done  than  what  we  are  already  doing.  But  first  of  all 
I  need  not  say  that  we  must  keep  our  nerve.  I  do  not 
believe  any  Indian  will  see  any  sign  of  doubt  or  fear 
in  the  face  of  any  member  of  this  Force.  Our  patrols 
must  be  regularly  and  carefully  done.  There  are  a 
lot  of  things  which  we  must  not  see,  a  certain  amount 
of  lawbreaking  which  we  must  not  notice.  Avoid  on 
every  possible  occasion  pushing  things  to  extremes; 
but  where  it  is  necessary  to  act  we  must  act  with 
promptitude  and  fearlessness,  as  Mr.  Cameron  here 
did  at  the  Piegan  Eeserve  a  week  or  so  ago.  I  mention 
this  because  I  consider  that  action  of  Cameron's  a 
typically  fine  piece  of  Police  work.  We  must  keep  on 
.good  terms  with  the  Chiefs,  tell  them  what  good  news 
there  is  to  tell.  We  must  intercept  every  runner  pos- 
sible. Arrest  them  and  bring  them  to  the  barracks. 
The  situation  is  grave,  but  not  hopeless.  Great  re- 
sponsibilities rest  upon  us,  gentlemen.  I  do  not  be- 
lieve that  we  shall  fail." 

The  little  company  broke  up  with  resolute  and  grim 
determination  stamped  on  every  face.  There  would 
"be  no  weakening  at  any  spot  where  a  Mounted  Police- 
man was  on  duty. 


THE    GREAT    CHIEF  309 

''Cameron,  just  a  moment,"  said  the  Superin- 
tendent as  lie  was  passing  out.  ' '  Sit  down.  You  were 
quite  right  in  that  Eagle  Feather  matter.  You  did 
the  right  thing  in  pushing  that  hard." 

"I  somehow  felt  I  could  do  it,  sir,"  replied  Cameron 
simply.  ' '  I  had  the  feeling  in  my  bones  that  we  could 
have  taken  the  whole  camp  that  day." 

The  Superintendent  nodded.  "I  understand.  And 
that  is  the  way  we  should  feel.  But  don't  do  anything 
rash  this  week.  This  is  a  week  of  crisis.  If  any  fur- 
ther reverse  should  happen  to  our  troops  it  will  be  ex- 
tremely difficult,  if  indeed  possible,  to  hold  back  the 
younger  braves.  If  there  should  be  a  rising — which 
may  God  forbid — my  plan  then  would  be  to  back  right 
on  to  the  Blackfeet  Reserve.  If  old  Crowfoot  keeps 
steady — and  with  our  presence  to  support  him  I  be- 
lieve he  would — we  could  hold  things  safe  for  a  while. 
But,  Cameron,  that  Sioux  devil  Copperhead  must  be 
got  rid  of.  It  is  he  that  is  responsible  for  this  rest- 
less spirit  among  the  younger  Chiefs.  He  has  been  in 
the  East,  you  say,  for  the  last  three  weeks,  but  he  will 
soon  be  back.  His  runners  are  everywhere.  His 
work  lies  here,  and  the  only  hope  for  the  rebellion  lies 
here,  and  he  knows  it.  My  scouts  inform  me  that  there 
is  something  big  immediately  on.  A  powwow  is  ar- 
ranged somewhere  before  final  action.  I  have  reason 
to  suspect  that  if  we  sustain  another  reverse  and  if  the 
minor  Chiefs  from  all  the  reserves  come  to  an  agree- 
ment, Crowfoot  will  yield.  That  is  the  game  that  the 
Sioux  is  working  on  now. ' ' 

"I  know  that  quite  well,  sir,"  replied  Cameron. 
"Copperhead  has  captured  practically  all  the  minor 
Chiefs." 


310         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

* '  The  checking  of  that  big  cattle-run,  Cameron,  was 
a  mighty  good  stroke  for  us.  You  did  that  magnifi- 
cently." 

"No,  sir,"  replied  Cameron  firmly.  "We  owe  that 
to  Raven." 

"Yes,  yes,  we  do  owe  a  good  deal  to — to — that — to 
Raven.  Fine  fellow  gone  wrong.  Yes,  we  owe  a  lot  to 
him,  but  we  owe  a  lot  to  you  as  well,  Cameron.  I 
am  not  saying  you  will  ever  get  any  credit  for  it,  but 
— well— who  cares  so  long  as  the  thing  is  done1?  But 
this  Sioux  must  be  got  at  all  costs — at  all  costs,  Cam- 
eron, remember.  I  have  never  asked  you  to  push  this 
thing  to  the  limit,  but  now  at  all  costs,  dead  or  alive, 
that  Sioux  must  be  got  rid  of." 

"I  could  have  potted  him  several  times,"  replied 
Cameron,  "but  did  not  wish  to  push  matters  to  ex- 
tremes. ' ' 

"Quite  right.  Quite  right.  That  has  been  our  pol- 
icy hitherto,  but  now  things  have  reached  such  a  crisis 
that  we  can  take  no  further  chances.  The  Sioux  must 
be  eliminated." 

"All  right,  sir,"  said  Cameron,  and  a  new  purpose 
shaped  itself  in  his  heart.  At  all  costs  he  would  get 
the  Sioux,  alive  if  possible,  dead  if  not. 

Plainly  the  first  thing  was  to  uncover  his  tracks, 
and  with  this  intention  Cameron  proceeded  to  the 
Blackfeet  Reserve,  riding  with  Jerry  down  the  Bow 
River  from  Fort  Calgary,  until,  as  the  sun  was  setting 
on  an  early  May  evening,  he  came  in  sight  of  the  Black- 
foot  Crossing. 

Not  wishing  to  visit  the  Militia  camp  at  that  point, 
and  desiring  to  explore  the  approaches  of  the  Black- 
feet  Reserve  with  as  little  ostentation  as  possible,  he 


THE    GREAT    CHIEF  311 

sent  Jerry  on  with  the  horses,  with  instructions  to 
meet  him  later  on  in  the  evening  on  the  outside  of  the 
Blackfeet  camp,  and  took  a  side  trail  on  foot  leading 
to  the  reserve  through  a  coulee.  Through  the  bot- 
tom of  the  coulee  ran  a  little  stream  whose  banks  were 
packed  tight  with  alders,  willows  and  poplars.  Fol- 
lowing the  trail  to  where  it  crossed  the  stream,  Cam- 
eron left  it  for  the  purpose  of  quenching  his  thirst,  and 
proceeded  up-stream  some  little  way  from  the  usual 
crossing.  Lying  there  prone  upon  his  face  he  caught 
the  sound  of  hoofs,  and,  peering  through  the  alders, 
he  saw  a  line  of  Indians  riding  down  the  opposite  bank. 
Burying  his  head  among  the  tangled  alders  and  hardly 
breathing,  he  watched  them  one  by  one  cross  the 
stream  not  more  than  thirty  yards  away  and  clamber 
up  the  bank. 

"Something  doing  here,  sure  enough,"  he  said  to 
himself  as  he  noted  their  faces.  Three  of  them  he 
knew,  Eed  Crow  of  the  Bloods,  Trotting  Wolf  of  the 
Piegans,  Running  Stream  of  the  Blackfeet,  then  came 
three  others  unknown  to  Cameron,  and  last  in  the  line 
Cameron  was  startled  to  observe  Copperhead  himself, 
while  close  at  his  side  could  be  seen  the  slim  figure  of 
his  son.  As  the  Sioux  passed  by  Cameron's  hiding- 
place  he  paused  and  looked  steadily  down  into  the 
alders  for  a  moment  or  two,  then  rode  on. 

"Saved  yourself  that  time,  old  man,''  said  Cam- 
eron as  the  Sioux  disappeared,  following  the  others  up 
the  trail.  "We  will  see  just  which  trail  you  take," 
he  continued,  following  them  at  a  safe  distance  and 
keeping  himself  hidden  by  the  brush  till  they  reached 
the  open  and  disappeared  over  the  hill.  Swiftly  Cam- 
eron ran  to  the  top,  and,  lying  prone  among  the 


312         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

prairie  grass,  watched  them  for  some  time  as  they 
took  the  trail  that  ran  straight  westward. 

"Sarcee  Reserve  more  than  likely,"  he  muttered  to 
himself.  "If  Jerry  were  only  here!  But  he  is  not, 
so  I  must  let  them  go  in  the  meantime.  Later,  how- 
ever, we  shall  come  up  with  you,  gentlemen.  And 
now  for  old  Crowfoot  and  with  no  time  to  lose." 

He  had  only  a  couple  of  miles  to  go  and  in  a  few 
minutes  he  had  reached  the  main  trail  from  the  Militia 
camp  at  the  Crossing.  In  the  growing  darkness  he 
could  not  discern  whether  Jerry  had  passed  with  the 
horses  or  not,  so  he  pushed  on  rapidly  to  the  appointed 
place  of  meeting  and  there  found  Jerry  waiting  for 
him. 

"Listen,  Jerry!"  said  he.  "Copperhead  is  back.  I 
have  just  seen  him  and  his  son  with  Red  Crow,  Trot- 
ting Wolf  and  Running  Stream.  There  were  three 
others — Sioux  I  think  they  are;  at  any  rate  I  did  not 
know  them.  They  passed  me  in  the  coulee  and  took 
the  Sarcee  trail.  Now  what  do  you  think  is  up?" 

Jerry  pondered.    ' '  Come  from  Crowfoot,  heh  I ' ' 

"From  the  reserve  here  anyway,"  answered  Cam- 
eron. 

"Trotting  Wolf  beeg  Chief— Red  Crow  beeg  Chief 
— ver'  bad!  ver'  bad!  Dunno  me — look  somet'ing — 
beeg  powwow  mebbe.  Ver 'bad!  Ver 'bad!  Go  Sar- 
cee Reserve,  heh?"  Again  Jerry  pondered.  "Come 
from  h'east — by  Blood — Piegan — den  Blackfeet — go 
Sarcee.  What  dey  do?  Where  go  den?" 

"That  is  the  question,  Jerry,"  said  Cameron. 

"Souf  to  Weegwam?  No,  nord  to  Ghost  Reever— 
Manitou  Rock — dunno — mebbe. ' ' 

"By  Jove,  Jerry,  I  believe  you  may  be  right.  I 
don't  think  they  would  go  to  the  Wigwam — we  caught 


THE    GREAT    CHIEF  313 

them  there  once — nor  to  the  canyon.  What  abont 
this  Ghost  River?  I  don't  know  the  trail.  Where 
is  it?" 

"Nord  from  Bow  Reever  by  Kananaskis  half  day 
to  Ghost  Reever — bad  trail — small  leetle  reever — ver' 
stony — ver'  cold — beeg  tree  wit'  long  beard." 

"Long  beard?" 

"Yes — long,  long  gray  moss  lak'  beard — ver' 
strange  place  dat — from  Ghost  Reever  west  one  half 
day  to  beeg  Manitou  Rock — no  trail.  Beeg  medicine- 
dance  dere — see  heem  once  long  tarn'  'go — leetle  boy 
me — beeg  medicine — Indian  debbil  stay  dere — Indian 
much  scare' — only  go  when  mak'  beeg  tarn' — beeg 
medicine." 

"Let  me  see  if  I  get  you,  Jerry.  A  bad  trail  leads 
half  a  day  north  from  the  Bow  at  Kananaskis  to  Ghost 
River,  eh  ? " 

Jerry  nodded. 

"Then  up  the  Ghost  River  westward  through  the 
bearded  trees  half  a  day  to  the  Manitou  Rock  ?  Is  that 
right?" 

Again  Jerry  nodded. 

"How  shall  I  know  the  rock?" 

"Beeg  rock,"  said  Jerry.  "Beeg  dat  tree,"  point- 
ing to  a  tall  poplar,  "and  cut  straight  down  lak  some 
knife — beeg  rock — black  rock." 

"All  right,"  said  Cameron.  "What  I  want  to  know 
just  now  is  does  Crowfoot  know  of  this  thing?  I  fancy 
he  must.  I  am  going  in  to  see  him.  Copperhead  has 
just  come  from  the  reserve.  He  has  Running  Stream 
with  him.  It  is  possible,  just  possible,  that  he  may  not 
have  seen  Crowfoot.  This  I  shall  find  out.  Now, 
Jerry,  you  must  follow  Copperhead,  find  out  where  he 
has  gone  and  all  you  can  about  this  business,  and 


314         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

meet  me  where  the  trail  reaches  the  Ghost  Eiver. 
Call  in  at  Fort  Calgary.  Take  a  trooper  with  you  to 
look  after  the  horses.  I  shall  follow  you  to-morrow. 
If  you  are  not  at  the  Ghost  Eiver  I  shall  go  right  on 
— that  is  if  I  see  any  signs. ' ' 

"Bon!  Good!"  said  Jerry.  And  without  further 
word  he  slipped  on  to  his  horse  and  disappeared  into 
the  darkness,  taking  the  cross-trail  through  the  coulee 
by  which  Cameron  had  come. 

Crowfoot's  camp  showed  every  sign  of  the  organi- 
zation and  discipline  of  a  master  spirit.  The  tents 
and  houses  in  which  his  Indians  lived  were  extended 
along  both  sides  of  a  long  valley  flanked  at  both  ends 
by  poplar-bluffs.  At  the  bottom  of  the  valley  there 
was  a  series  of  "sleughs"  or  little  lakes,  affording 
good  grazing  and  water  for  the  herds  of  cattle  and 
ponies  that  could  be  seen  everywhere  upon  the  hill- 
sides. At  a  point  farthest  from  the  water  and  near  to 
a  poplar-bluff  stood  Crowfoot's  house.  At  the  first 
touch  of  summer,  however,  Crowfoot's  household  had 
moved  out  from  their  dwelling,  after  the  manner  of 
the  Indians,  and  had  taken  up  their  lodging  in  a  little 
group  of  tents  set  beside  the  house. 

Toward  this  little  group  of  tents  Cameron  rode  at 
an  easy  lope.  He  found  Crowfoot  alone  beside  his 
fire,  except  for  the  squaws  that  were  cleaning  up  after 
the  evening  meal  and  the  papooses  and  older  children 
rolling  about  on  the  grass.  As  Cameron  drew  near, 
all  vanished,  except  Crowfoot  and  a  youth  about  sev- 
enteen years  of  age,  whose  strongly  marked  features 
and  high,  fearless  bearing  proclaimed  him  Crowfoot's 
son.  Dismounting,  Cameron  dropped  the  reins  over 
his  horse's  head  and  with  a  word  of  greeting  to  the 


THE    GKEAT    CHIEF  315 

Chief  sat  down  by  the  fire.  Crowfoot  acknowledged 
his  salutation  with  a  suspicious  look  and  grunt. 

"Nice  night,  Crowfoot,"  said  Cameron  cheerfully. 
"Good  weather  for  the  grass,  eh?" 

"Good,"  said  Crowfoot  gruffly. 

Cameron  pulled  out  his  tobacco  pouch  and  passed  it 
to  the  Chief.  "With  an  air  of  indescribable  condescen- 
sion Crowfoot  took  the  pouch,  knocked  the  ashes  from 
his  pipe,  filled  it  from  the  pouch  and  handed  it  back  to 
the  owner. 

"Boy  smoke?"  inquired  Cameron,  holding  out  the 
pouch  toward  the  youth. 

' '  Huh ! ' '  grunted  Crowfoot  with  a  slight  relaxing  of 
his  face.  "Not  yet — too  small." 

The  lad  stood  like  a  statue,  and,  except  for  a  slight 
stiffening  of  his  tall  lithe  figure,  remained  absolutely 
motionless,  after  the  Indian  manner.  For  some  time 
they  smoked  in  silence. 

"Getting  cold,"  said  Cameron  at  length,  as  he 
kicked  the  embers  of  the  fire  together. 

Crowfoot  spoke  to  his  son  and  the  lad  piled  wood 
on  the  fire  till  it  blazed  high,  then,  at  a  sign  from  his 
father,  he  disappeared  into  the  tent. 

"Ha!  That  is  better,"  said  Cameron,  stretching 
out  his  hands  toward  the  fire  and  disposing  himself 
so  that  the  old  Chief's  face  should  be  set  clearly  in 
its  light. 

"The  Police  ride  hard  these  days?"  said  Crowfoot 
in  his  own  language,  after  a  long  silence. 

"Oh,  sometimes,"  replied  Cameron  carelessly, 
"when  cattle-thieves  ride  too." 

"Huh?"  inquired  Crowfoot  innocently. 

"Yes,  some  Indians  forget  all  that  the  Police  have 


316         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

done  for  them,  and  like  coyotes  steal  upon  the  cattle 
at  night  and  drive  them  over  cut-banks." 

"Huh?"  inquired  Crowfoot  again,  apparently  much 
interested. 

"Yes,"  continued  Cameron,  fully  aware  that  he  was 
giving  the  old  Chief  no  news,  "Eagle  Feather  will  be 
much  wiser  when  he  rides  over  the  plains  again. ' ' 

"Huh!"  ejaculated  the  Chief  in  agreement. 

"But  Eagle  Feather,"  continued  Cameron,  "is  not 
the  worst  Indian.  He  is  no  good,  only  a  little  boy  who 
does  what  he  is  told." 

"Huh?"  inquired  Crowfoot  with  childlike  sim- 
plicity. 

"Yes,  he  is  an  old  squaw  serving  his  Chief." 

"Huh?"  again  inquired  Crowfoot,  moving  his  pipe 
from  his  mouth  in  his  apparent  anxiety  to  learn  the 
name  of  this  unknown  master  of  Eagle  Feather. 

"Onawata,  the  Sioux,  is  a  great  Chief,"  said  Cam- 
eron. 

Crowfoot  grunted  his  indifference. 

"He  makes  all  the  little  Chiefs,  Blood,  Piegan,  Sar- 
cee,  Blackfeet  obey  him,"  said  Cameron  in  a  scornful 
voice,  shading  his  face  from  the  fire  with  his  hand. 

This  time  Crowfoot  made  no  reply. 

"But  he  has  left  this  country  for  a  while?"  con- 
tinued Cameron. 

Crowfoot  grunted  acquiescence. 

"My  brother  has  not  seen  this  Sioux  for  some 
weeks?"  Again  Cameron's  hand  shaded  his  face  from 
the  fire  while  his  eyes  searched  the  old  Chief's  impas- 
sive countenance. 

"No,"  said  Crowfoot.  "Not  for  many  days.  Ona- 
wata bad  man — make  much  trouble." 


THE    GEEAT    CHIEF  317 

"The  big  war  is  going  on  good,"  said  Cameron, 
abruptly  changing  the  subject. 

"Huh I"  inquired  Crowfoot,  looking  up  quickly. 

"Yes,"  said  Cameron.  "At  Fish  Creek  the  half- 
breeds  and  Indians  had  a  good  chance  to  wipe  out 
General  Middleton's  column."  And  he  proceeded  to 
give  a  graphic  account  of  the  rebels'  opportunity  at 
that  unfortunate  affair.  "But,"  he  concluded,  "the 
half-breeds  and  Indians  have  no  Chief." 

"No  Chief,"  agreed  Crowfoot  with  emphasis,  his 
old  eyes  gleaming  in  the  firelight.  "No  Chief,"  he 
repeated.  "Where  Big  Bear — Little  Pine — Kah-mee- 
yes-too-waegs  and  Oo-pee-too-korah-han-ap-ee-wee- 
yin?" 

"Oh,"  said  Cameron,  "here,  there,  everywhere." 

"Huh!  No  big  Chief,"  grunted  Crowfoot  in  dis- 
gust. "One  big  Chief  make  all  Indians  one." 

It  seemed  worth  while  to  Cameron  to  take  a  full 
hour  from  his  precious  time  to  describe  fully  the  op- 
erations of  the  troops  and  to  make  clear  to  the  old 
warrior  the  steady  advances  which  the  various  col- 
umns were  making,  the  points  they  had  relieved  and 
the  ultimate  certainty  of  victory. 

' '  Six  thousand  men  now  in  the  West, ' '  he  concluded, 
"besides  the  Police.  And  ten  thousand  more  waiting 
to  come." 

Old  Crowfoot  was  evidently  much  impressed  and 
was  eager  to  learn  more. 

"I  must  go  now,"  said  Cameron,  rising.  "Where  is 
Eunning  Stream  1"  he  asked,  suddenly  facing  Crow- 
foot. 

"Huh!  Eunning  Stream  he  go  hunt — free  day — 
not  come  back,"  answered  Crowfoot  quickly. 


318         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

Cameron  sat  down  again  by  the  fire,  poked  up  the 
embers  till  the  blaze  mounted  high. 

"Crowfoot,"  he  said  solemnly,  "this  day  Onawata 
was  in  this  camp  and  spoke  with  you.  Wait ! "  he  said, 
putting  up  his  hand  as  the  old  Chief  was  about  to 
speak.  "This  evening  he  rode  away  with  Running 
Stream,  Red  Crow,  Trotting  Wolf.  The  Sioux  for 
many  days  has  been  leading  about  your  young  men 
like  dogs  on  a  string.  To-day  he  has  put  the  string 
round  the  necks  of  Red  Crow,  Running  Stream,  Trot- 
ting Wolf.  I  did  not  think  he  could  lead  Crowfoot  too 
like  a  little  dog. 

•  "Wait!"  he  said  again  as  Crowfoot  rose  to  his  feet 
in  indignation.  "Listen!  The  Police  will  get  that 
Sioux.  And  the  Police  will  take  the  Chiefs  that  he 
led  round  like  little  dogs  and  send  them  away.  The 
Great  Mother  cannot  have  men  as  Chiefs  whom  she 
cannot  trust.  For  many  years  the  Police  have  pro- 
tected the  Indians.  It  was  Crowfoot  himself  who  once 
said  when  the  treaty  was  being  made — Crowfoot  will 
remember — '  If  the  Police  had  not  come  to  the  country 
where  would  we  all  be  now?  Bad  men  and  whisky- 
were  killing  us  so  fast  that  very  few  indeed  of  us 
would  have  been  left  to-day.  The  Police  have  pro- 
tected us  as  the  feathers  of  the  bird  protect  it  from 
the  frosts  of  winter.'  This  is  what  Crowfoot  said  to 
the  Great  Mother's  Councilor  when  he  made  a  treaty 
with  the  Great  Mother. ' ' 

Here  Cameron  rose  to  his  feet  and  stood  facing  the 
Chief. 

"Is  Crowfoot  a  traitor?  Does  he  give  his  hand  and 
draw  it  back  again?  It  is  not  good  that,  when  trouble 
comes,  the  Indians  should  join  the  enemies  of  the 
Police  and  of  the  Great  Mother  across  the  sea.  These 


THE    GEE  AT    CHIEF  319 

enemies  will  be  scattered  like  dust  before  the  wind. 
Does  Crowfoot  think  when  the  leaves  have  fallen  from 
the  trees  this  year  there  will  be  any  enemies  left? 
Bah !  This  Sioux  dog  does  not  know  the  Great  Mother, 
nor  her  soldiers,  nor  her  Police.  Crowfoot  knows. 
"Why  does  he  talk  to  the  enemies  of  the  Great  Mother 
and  of  his  friends  the  Police?  "What  does  Crowfoot 
say?  I  go  to-night  to  take  Onawata.  Already  my 
men  are  upon  his  trail.  "Where  does  Crowfoot  stand? 
With  Onawata  and  the  little  Chiefs  he  leads  around 
or  with  the  Great  Mother  and  the  Police?  Speak!  I 
am  waiting." 

The  old  Chief  was  deeply  stirred.  For  some  mo- 
ments while  Cameron  was  speaking  he  had  been  eag- 
erly seeking  an  opportunity  to  reply,  but  Cameron's 
passionate  torrent  of  words  prevented  him  breaking* 
in  without  discourtesy.  When  Cameron  ceased,  how- 
ever, the  old  Chief  stretched  out  his  hand  and  in  his 
own  language  began: 

"Many  years  ago  the  Police  came  to  this  country. 
My  people  then  were  poor — 

At  this  point  the  sound  of  a  galloping  horse  was 
heard,  mingled  with  the  loud  cries  of  its  rider.  Crow- 
foot paused  and  stood  intently  listening.  Cameron 
could  get  no  meaning  from  the  shouting.  From  every 
tent  men  came  running  forth  and  from  the  houses 
along  the  trail  on  every  hand,  till  before  the  horse 
had  gained  Crowfoot's  presence  there  had  gathered 
about  the  Chief's  fire  a  considerable  crowd  of  Indians, 
whose  numbers  were  momentarily  augmented  by  men 
from  the  tents  and  houses  up  and  down  the  trail. 

In  calm  and  dignified  silence  the  old  Chief  waited 
the  rider's  word.  He  was  an  Indian  runner  and  he 
bore  an  important  message. 


320         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

Dismounting,  the  runner  stood,  struggling  to  re- 
cover his  breath  and  to  regain  sufficient  calmness  to 
deliver  his  message  in  proper  form  to  the  great  Chief 
of  the  Blackfeet  confederacy.  While  he  stood  thus 
struggling  with  himself  Cameron  took  the  opportunity 
to  closely  scrutinize  his  face. 

"A  Sarcee,"  he  muttered.  "I  remember  him — an 
impudent  cur."  He  moved  quietly  toward  his  horse, 
drew  the  reins  up  over  his  head,  and,  leading  him  back 
toward  the  fire,  took  his  place  beside  Crowfoot  again. 

The  Sarcee  had  begun  his  tale,  speaking  under  in- 
tense excitement  which  he  vainly  tried  to  control.  He" 
delivered  his  message.  Such  was  the  rapidity  and  in- 
coherence of  his  speech,  however,  that  Cameron  could 
make  nothing  of  it.  The  effect  upon  the  crowd  was 
immediate  and  astounding.  On  every  side  rose  wild 
cries  of  fierce  exultation,  while  at  Cameron  angry 
looks  flashed  from  every  eye.  Old  Crowfoot  alone  re- 
mained quiet,  calm,  impassive,  except  for  the  fierce 
gleaming  of  his  steady  eyes. 

When  the  runner  had  delivered  his  message  he  held 
up  his  hand  and  spoke  but  a  single  word.  Immediately 
there  was  silence  as  of  the  grave.  Nothing  was  heard, 
not  even  the  breathing  of  the  Indians  close  about  him. 
In  sharp,  terse  sentences  the  old  Chief  questioned  the 
runner,  who  replied  at  first  eagerly,  then,  as  the  ques- 
tions proceeded,  with  some  hesitation.  Finally,  with  a 
wave  of  the  hand  Crowfoot  dismissed  him  and  stood 
silently  pondering  for  some  moments.  Then  he  turned 
to  his  people  and  said  with  quiet  and  impressive  dig- 
nity: 

"This  is  a  matter  for  the  Council.  To-morrow  we 
will  discuss  it."  Then  turning  to  Cameron  he  said 
in  a  low  voice  and  with  grave  courtesy,  "It  is  wise 


THE    GEEAT    CHIEF  321 

that  my  brother  should  go  while  the  trails  are  open. ' ' 

"The  trails  are  always  open  to  the  Great  Mother's 
Mounted  Police, ' '  said  Cameron,  looking  the  old  Chief 
full  in  the  eye. 

Crowfoot  stood  silent,  evidently  thinking  deeply. 

"It  is  right  that  my  brother  should  know,"  he  said 
at  length,  "what  the  runner  tells,"  and  in  his  deep 
guttural  voice  there  was  a  ring  of  pride. 

"Good  news  is  always  welcome,"  said  Cameron,  as 
he  coolly  pulled  out  his  pipe  and  offered  his  pouch 
once  more  to  Crowfoot,  who,  however,  declined  to 
see  it. 

"The  white  soldiers  have  attacked  the  Indians  and 
have  been  driven  back,"  said  Crowfoot  with  a  keen 
glance  at  Cameron's  face. 

"Ah!"  said  Cameron,  smiling.  "What  Indians? 
What  white  soldiers?" 

"The  soldiers  that  marched  to  Battleford.  They 
went  against  Oo-pee-too-korah-han-ap-ee-wee-yin  and 
the  Indians  did  not  run  away."  No  words  could  de- 
scribe the  tone  and  attitude  of  exultant  and  haughty 
pride  with  which  the  old  Chief  delivered  this  infor- 
mation. 

"Crowfoot."  said  Cameron  with  deliberate  empha- 
sis, "it  was  Colonel  Otter  and  Superintendent  Herch- 
mer  of  the  Mounted  Police  that  went  north  to  Battle- 
ford.  You  do  not  know  Colonel  Otter,  but  you  do  know 
Superintendent  Herchmer.  Tell  me,  would  Superin- 
tendent Herchmer  and  the  Police  run  away  ? ' ' 

"The  runner  tells  that  the  white  soldiers  ran  away," 
said  Crowfoot  stubbornly. 

'Then  the  runner  lies !"  Cameron's  voice  rang  out 
loud  and  clear. 

Swift  as  a  lightning  flash  the  Sarcee  sprang  at  Cam- 


322         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

eron,  knife  in  hand,  crying  in  the  Blackfeet  tongue 
that  terrible  cry  so  long  dreaded  by  settlers  in  the 
Western  States  of  America,  "Death  to  the  white 
man!"  Without  apparently  moving  a  muscle,  still 
holding  by  the  mane  of  his  horfce,  Cameron  met  the 
attack  with  a  swift  and  well-placed  kick  which  caught 
the  Indian's  right  wrist  and  flung  his  knife  high  in 
the  air.  Following  up  the  kick,  Cameron  took  a  single 
step  forward  and  met  the  murderous  Sarcee  with  a 
straight  left-hand  blow  on  the  jaw  that  landed  the 
Indian  across  the  fire  and  deposited  him  kicking  amid 
the  crowd. 

Immediately  there  was  a  quick  rush  toward  the 
white  man,  but  the  rush  halted  before  two  little  black 
barrels  with  two  hard,  steady,  gray  eyes  gleaming  be- 
hind them. 

"Crowfoot!"  said  Cameron  sharply.  "I  hold  ten 
dead  Indians  in  my  hands." 

With  a  single  stride  Crowfoot  was  at  Cameron's 
side.  A  single  sharp  stern  word  of  command  he  ut- 
tered and  the  menacing  Indians  slunk  back  into  the 
shadows,  but  growling  like  angry  beasts. 

"Is  it  wise  to  anger  my  young  men?"  said  Crowfoot 
in  a  low  voice. 

"Is  it  wise,"  replied  Cameron  sternly,  "to  allow 
mad  dogs  to  run  loose?  We  kill  such  mad  dogs  in 
my  country." 

"Huh,"  grunted  Crowfoot  with  a  shrug  of  his  shoul- 
ders. "Let  him  die !"  Then  in  a  lower  voice  he  added 
earnestly,  "It  would  be  good  to  take  the  trail  before 
my  young  men  can  catch  their  horses." 

"I  was  just  going,  Crowfoot,"  said  Cameron,  stoop- 
ing to  light  his  pipe  at  the  fire.  "Good-night.  Re- 
member what  I  have  said."  And  Cameron  cantered 


THE    GREAT    CHIEF  323 

away  with  both  hands  low  before  him  and  guiding  his 
broncho  with  his  knees,  and  so  rode  easily  till  safely 
beyond  the  line  of  the  reserve.  Once  out  of  the  re- 
serve he  struck  his  spurs  hard  into  his  horse  and  sent 
him  onward  at  headlong  pace  toward  the  Militia 
camp. 

Ten  minutes  after  his  arrival  at  the  camp  every  sol- 
dier was  in  his  place  ready  to  strike,  and  so  remained 
all  night,  with  pickets  thrown  far  out  listening  with 
ears  attent  for  the  soft  pad  of  moccasined  feet. 


324 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE   LAST   PATBOL, 

IT  WAS  still  early  morning  when  Cameron  rode 
into  the  barrack-yard  at  Fort  Calgary.    To  the 
Sergeant  in  charge,  the  Superintendent  of  Po- 
lice  having   departed   to   Macleod,   he   reported   the 
events  of  the  preceding  night. 

"What  about  that  rumor,  Sergeant?"  he  inquired 
after  he  had  told  his  tale. 

"Well,  I  had  the  details  yesterday,"  replied  the 
Sergeant.  * '  Colonel  Otter  and  a  column  of  some  three 
hundred  men  with  three  guns  went  out  after  Pound- 
maker.  The  Indians  were  apparently  strongly  posted 
and  could  not  be  dislodged,  and  I  guess  our  men  were 
glad  to  get  out  of  the  scrape  as  easily  as  they  did. ' ' 

*  *  Great  Heavens ! ' '  cried  Cameron,  more  to  himself 
than  to  the  officer,  "what  will  this  mean  to  us  here?" 

The  Sergeant  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"The  Lord  only  knows!"  he  said. 

"Well,  my  business  presses  all  the  more,"  said 
Cameron.  "I'm  going  after  this  Sioux.  Jerry  is  al- 
ready on  his  trail.  I  suppose  you  cannot  let  me  have 
three  or  four  men?  There  is  liable  to  be  trouble  and 
we  cannot  afford  to  make  a  mess  of  this  thing." 

"Jerry  came  in  last  night  asking  for  a  man,"  re- 
plied the  Sergeant,  "but  I  could  not  spare  one.  How- 
ever, we  will  do  our  best  and  send  you  on  the  very 
first  men  that  come  in." 

"Send  on  half  a  dozen  to-morrow  at  the  very 
latest,"  replied  Cameron.  "I  shall  rely  upon  you. 
Let  ma  give  you  my  trail." 

He  left  a  plan  of  the  Ghost  Eiver  Trail  with  the 


THE    LAST    PATEOL  325 

Sergeant  and  rode  to  look  up  Dr.  Martin.  He  found 
the  doctor  still  in  bed  and  wrathful  at  being  disturbed. 

"I  say,  Cameron,"  he  growled,  "what  in  thunder 
do  you  mean  by  roaming  round  this  way  at  night  and 
waking  up  Christian  people  out  of  their  sleep!" 

"Sorry,  old  boy,"  replied  Cameron,  "but  my  busi- 
ness is  rather  important." 

And  then  while  the  doctor  sat  and  shivered  in  his 
night  clothes  upon  the  side  of  the  bed  Cameron  gave 
him  in  detail  the  history  of  the  previous  evening  and 
outlined  his  plan  for  the  capture  of  the  Sioux. 

Dr.  Martin  listened  intently,  noting  the  various 
points  and  sketching  an  outline  of  the  trail  as  Cam- 
eron described  it. 

"I  wanted  you  to  know,  Martin,  in  case  anything 
happened.  For,  well,  you  know  how  it  is  with  my 
wife  just  now.  A  shock  might  kill  her." 

The  doctor  growled  an  indistinct  reply. 

"That  is  all,  old  chap.  Good-by,"  said  Cameron, 
pressing  his  hand.  "This  I  feel  is  my  last  go  with 
old  Copperhead." 

"Your  last  go!" 

' '  Oh,  don 't  be  alarmed, ' '  he  replied  lightly.  '  *  I  am 
going  to  get  him  this  time.  There  will  be  no  trifling 
henceforth.  Well,  good-by,  I  am  off.  By  the  way,  the 
Sergeant  at  the  barracks  has  promised  to  send  on  half 
a  dozen  men  to-morrow  to  back  me  up.  You  might 
just  keep  him  in  mind  of  that,  for  things  are  so  pres- 
sing here  that  he  might  quite  well  imagine  that  he 
could  not  spare  the  men." 

"Well,  that  is  rather  better,"  said  Martin.  "The 
Sergeant  will  send  those  men  all  right,  or  I  will  know 
the  reason  why.  Hope  you  get  your  game.  Good-by, 
old  man." 


326         THE   SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 

A  day's  ride  brought  Cameron  to  Kananaskis,  where 
the  Sun  Dance  Trail  ends  on  one  side  of  the  Bow  River 
and  the  Ghost  River  Trail  begins  on  the  other.  There 
he  found  signs  to  indicate  that  Jerry  was  before  him 
on  his  way  to  the  Manitou  Rock.  As  Cameron  was 
preparing  to  camp  for  the  night  there  came  over  him 
a  strong  but  unaccountable  presentiment  of  approach- 
ing evil,  an  irresistible  feeling  that  he  ought  to  press 
forward. 

"Pshaw!  I  will  be  seeing  spooks  next!"  he  said 
impatiently  to  himself.  "I  suppose  it  is  the  High- 
lander in  me  that  is  seeing  visions  and  dreaming 
dreams.  I  must  eat,  however,  no  matter  what  is  going 
to  happen." 

Leaving  his  horse  saddled,  but  removing  the  bridle, 
he  gave  him  his  feed  of  oats,  then  he  boiled  his  tea 
and  made  his  own  supper.  As  he  was  eating  the  feel- 
ing grew  more  strongly  upon  him  that  he  should  not 
camp  but  go  forward  at  once.  At  the  same  time 
he  made  the  discovery  that  the  weariness  that  had 
almost  overpowered  him  during  the  last  half-hour  of 
his  ride  had  completely  vanished.  Hence,  with  the 
feeling  of  half  contemptuous  anger  at  himself  for 
yielding  to  his  presentiment,  he  packed  up  his  kit 
again,  bridled  his  horse,  and  rode  on. 

The  trail  was  indeed,  as  Jerry  said,  "no  trail."  It 
was  rugged  with  broken  rocks  and  cumbered  with 
fallen  trees,  and  as  it  proceeded  became  more  indis- 
tinct. His  horse,  too,  from  sheer  weariness,  for  he 
had  already  done  his  full  day's  journey,  was  growing 
^less  sure  footed  and  so  went  stumbling  noisily  along. 
Cameron  began  to  regret  his  folly  in  yielding  to  a  mere 
unreasoning  imagination  and  he  resolved  to  spend  the 
night  at  the  first  camping-ground  that  should  offer. 


THE    LAST    PATEOL  327 

The  light  of  the  long  spring  day  was  beginning  to  fade 
from  the  sky  and  in  the  forest  the  deep  shadows  were 
beginning  to  gather.  Still  no  suitable  camping-ground 
presented  itself  and  Cameron  stubbornly  pressed  for- 
ward through  the  forest  that  grew  denser  and  more 
difficult  at  every  step.  After  some  hours  of  steady 
plodding  the  trees  began  to  be  sensibly  larger,  the 
birch  and  poplar  gave  place  to  spruce  and  pine  and 
the  underbrush  almost  entirely  disappeared.  The 
trail,  too,  became  better,  winding  between  the  large 
trees  which,  with  clean  trunks,  stood  wide  apart  and 
arranged  themselves  in  stately  high-arched  aisles  and 
long  corridors.  From  the  lofty  branches  overhead  the 
gray  moss  hung  in  long  streamers,  as  Jerry  had  said, 
giving  to  the  trees  an  ancient  and  weird  appearance. 
Along  these  silent,  solemn,  gray-festooned  aisles  and 
corridors  Cameron  rode  with  an  uncanny  sensation 
that  unseen  eyes  were  peering  out  upon  him  from 
those  dim  and  festooned  corridors  on  either  side.  Im- 
patiently he  strove  to  shake  off  the  feeling,  but  in 
vain.  At  length,  forced  by  the  growing  darkness,  he 
decided  to  camp,  when  through  the  shadowy  and  silent 
forest  there  came  to  his  ears  the  welcome  sound  of 
running  water.  It  was  to  Cameron  like  the  sound  of 
a  human  voice.  He  almost  called  aloud  to  the  running 
stream  as  to  a  friend.  It  was  the  Ghost  River. 

In  a  few  minutes  he  had  reached  the  water  and  after 
picketing  his  horse  some  little  distance  down  the 
stream  and  away  from  the  trail,  he  rolled  himself  in 
his  blanket  to  sleep.  The  moon  rising  above  the  high 
tree-tops  filled  the  forest  aisles  with  a  soft  unearthly 
light.  As  his  eye  followed  down  the  long  dim  aisles 
there  grew  once  more  upon  him  the  feeling  that  he  was 
being  watched  by  unseen  eyes.  Vainly  he  cursed  him- 


328 


self  for  his  folly.  He  could  not  sleep.  A  twig  broke 
near  him.  He  lay  still  listening  with  every  nerve 
taut.  He  fancied  he  could  hear  soft  feet  about  him  and 
stealing  near.  With  his  two  guns  in  hand  he  sat  bolf 
upright.  Straight  before  him  and  not  more  than  ten 
feet  away  the  form  of  an  Indian  was  plainly  to  be 
seen.  A  slight  sound  to  his  right  drew  his  eyes  in  that 
direction.  There,  too,  stood  the  silent  form  of  an 
Indian,  on  his  left  also  an  Indian.  Suddenly  from  be- 
hind him  a  deep,  guttural  voice  spoke,  "Look  this 
way!"  He  turned  sharply  and  found  himself  gazing 
into  a .  rifle-barrel  a  few  feet  from  his  face.  '  *  Now 
look  back!"  said  the  voice.  He  glanced  to  right  and 
left,  only  to  find  rules  leveled  at  him  from  every  side. 

"White  man  put  down  his  guns  on  ground!"  said 
the  same  guttural  voice. 

Cameron  hesitated. 

"Indian  speak  no  more,"  said  the  voice  in  a  deep 
growl. 

Cameron  put  his  guns  down. 

* '  Stand  up ! "  said  the  voice. 

Cameron  obeyed.  Out  from  behind  the  Indian  with 
the  leveled  rifle  glided  another  Indian  form.  It  was 
Copperhead.  Two  more  Indians  appeared  with  him. 
All  thought  of  resistance  passed  from  Cameron's 
mind.  It  would  mean  instant  death,  and,  what  to 
Cameron  was  worse  than  death,  the  certain  failure  of 
his  plans.  While  he  lived  he  still  had  hope.  Besides, 
there  would  be  the  Police  next  day. 

With  savage,  cruel  haste  Copperhead  bound  his 
hands  behind  his  back  and  as  a  further  precaution 
threw  a  cord  about  his  neck. 

'  *  Come ! "  he  said,  giving  the  cord  a  quick  jerk. 

"Copperhead,"  said  Cameron  through  his  clenched 


32:) 


teeth,  "you  will  one  day  wish  yon  had  never  done  this 
thing." 

"No  speak!"  said  Copperhead  gruffly,  jerking  the 
cord  so  heavily  as  almost  to  throw  Cameron  off  his 
feet. 

Through  the  night  Cameron  stumbled  on  with  his 
captors,  Copperhead  in  front  and  the  others  following. 
Half  dead  with  sleeplessness  and  blind  with  rage  he 
walked  on  as  if  in  a  hideous  nightmare,  mechanically 
watching  the  feet  of  the  Indian  immediately  in  front 
of  him  and  thus  saving  himself  many  a  cruel  fall  and 
a  more  cruel  jerking  of  the  cord  about  his  neck,  for 
such  was  Copperhead's  method  of  lifting  him  to  his 
feet  when  he  fell.  It  seemed  to  him  as  if  the  night 
would  never  pass  or  the  journey  end. 

At  length  the  throbbing  of  the  Indian  drum  fell  upon 
his  ears.  It  was  to  him  a  welcome  sound.  Nothing 
could  be  much  more  agonizing  than  what  he  was  at 
present  enduring.  As  they  approached  the  Indian 
camp  one  of  his  captors  raised  a  wild,  wailing  cry 
which  resounded  through  the  forest  with  an  unearthly 
sound.  Never  had  such  a  cry  fallen  upon  Cameron's 
ears.  It  was  the  old-time  cry  of  the  Indian  warriors 
announcing  that  they  were  returning  in  triumph  bring- 
ing their  captives  with  them.  The  drum-beat  ceased. 
Again  the  cry  was  raised,  when  from  the  Indian  en- 
campment came  in  reply  a  chorus  of  similar  cries  fol- 
lowed by  a  rush  of  braves  to  meet  the  approaching 
warriors  and  to  welcome  them  and  their  captives. 

With  loud  and  discordant  exultation  straight  into 
the  circle  of  the  firelight  cast  from  many  fires  Copper- 
head and  his  companions  marched  their  captive.  On 
every  side  naked  painted  Indians  to  the  number  of  sev- 
eral score  crowded  in  tumultuous  uproar.  Not  for 


330         THE   SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 

many  years  had  these  Indians  witnessed  their  ancient 
and  joyous  sport  of  baiting  a  prisoner. 

As  Cameron  came  into  the  clear  light  of  the  fire  in- 
stantly low  murmurs  ran  round  the  crowd,  for  to  many 
of  them  he  was  well  known.  Then  silence  fell  upon 
them.  His  presence  there  was  clearly  a  shock  to  many 
of  them.  To  take  prisoner  one  of  the  Mounted  Police 
and  to  submit  him  to  indignity  stirred  strange  emo- 
tions in  their  hearts.  The  keen  eye  of  Copperhead 
noted  the  sudden  change  of  the  mood  of  the  Indians 
and  immediately  he  gave  orders  to  those  who  held 
Cameron  in  charge,  with  the  result  that  they  hurried 
him  off  and  thrust  him  into  a  little  low  hut  constructed 
of  brush  and  open  in  front  where,  after  tying  his  feet 
securely,  they  left  him  with  an  Indian  on  guard  in 
front. 

For  some  moments  Cameron  lay  stupid  with  weari- 
ness and  pain  tiL  his  weariness  overpowered  his  pain 
and  he  sank  into  sleep.  He  was  recalled  to  conscious- 
ness by  the  sensation  of  something  digging  into  his 
ribs.  As  he  sat  up  half  asleep  a  low  "hist!"  startled 
him  wide  awake.  His  heart  leaped  as  he  heard  out  of 
the  darkness  a  whispered  word,  "Jerry  here."  Cam- 
eron rolled  over  and  came  close  against  the  little  half- 
breed,  bound  as  he  was  himself.  Again  came  the 
"hist!" 

"Me  all  lak'  youse'f,"  said  Jerry.  "No  spik  any. 
Look  out  front." 

The  Indian  on  guard  was  eagerly  looking  and  listen- 
ing to  what  was  going  on  before  him  beside  the  fire. 
At  one  side  of  the  circle  sat  the  Indians  in  council. 
Copperhead  was  standing  and  speaking  to  them. 

"What  is  he  saying?"  said  Cameron,  his  mouth 
close  to  Jerry's  ear. 


THE    LAST    PATROL  331 

"He  say  dey  keel  us  queeck.  Indian  no  lak'  keel. 
Dey  scare  Police  get  'em.  Copperhead  lie  ver'  mad. 
Say  he  keel  us  heemse'f — queeck." 

Again  and  again  and  with  ever  increasing  vehe- 
mence Copperhead  urged  his  views  upon  the  hesitating 
Indians,  well  aware  that  by  involving  them  in  such  a 
deed  of  blood  he  would  irrevocably  commit  them  to 
rebellion.  But  he  was  dealing  with  men  well-nigh  as 
subtle  as  himself,  and  for  the  very  same  reason  as  he 
pressed  them  to  the  deed  they  shrank  back  from  it. 
They  were  not  yet  quite  prepared  to  burn  their  bridges 
behind  them.  Indeed  some  of  them  suggested  the 
wisdom  of  holding  the  prisoners  as  hostages  in  case 
of  necessity  arising  in  the  future. 

"What  Indians  are  here?"  whispered  Cameron. 

"Piegan,  Sarcee,  Blood,"  breathed  Jerry.  "No 
Blackfeet  come — not  yet — Copperhead  he  look,  look, 
look  all  yesterday  for  Blackfeet  coming.  Blackfeet 
come  to-morrow  mebbe — den  Indian  mak'  beeg  medi- 
cine. Copperhead  he  go  meet  Blackfeet  dis  day — 
he  catch  you — he  go  'gain  to-morrow  mebbe — dunno." 

Meantime  the  discussion  in  the  council  was  drawing 
to  a  climax.  With  the  astuteness  of  a  true  leader  Cop- 
perhead ceased  to  urge  his  view,  and,  unable  to  secure 
the  best,  wisely  determined  to  content  himself  with 
the  second-best.  His  vehement  tone  gave  place  to  one 
of  persuasion.  Finally  an  agreement  appeared  to  be 
reached  by  all.  With  one  consent  the  council  rose 
and  with  hands  uplifted  they  all  appeared  to  take 
some  solemn  oath. 

"What  are  they  saying?"  whispered  Cameron. 

"He  say,"  replied  Jerry,  "he  go  meet  Blackfeet  and 
when  he  bring  'em  back  den  dey  keel  us  sure  t'ing. 


332         THE   SUN   DANCE   TEAIL 

But,"  added  Jerry  with  a  cheerful  giggle,  "he  not 
keel  'em  yet,  by  Gar!" 

For  some  minutes  they  waited  in  silence,  then  they 
saw  Copperhead  with  his  bodyguard  of  Sioux  disap- 
pear from  the  circle  of  the  firelight  into  the  shadows 
of  the  forest. 

"Now  you  go  sleep,"  whispered  Jerry.  "Me  keep 
watch. ' ' 

Even  before  he  had  finished  speaking  Cameron  had 
lain  back  upon  the  ground  and  in  spite  of  the  pain  in 
his  tightly  bound  limbs  such  was  his  utter  exhaustion 
that  he  fell  fast  asleep. 

It  seemed  to  him  but  a  moment  when  he  was  again 
awakened  by  the  touch  of  a  hand  stealing  over  his 
face.  The  hand  reached  his  lips  and  rested  there,  when 
he  started  up  wide-awake.  A  soft  hiss  from  the  back 
of  the  hut  arrested  him. 

"No  noise,"  said  a  soft  guttural  voice.  Again  the 
hand  was  thrust  through  the  brush  wall,  this  time 
bearing  a  knife.  "Cut  string,"  whispered  the  voice, 
while  the  hand  kept  feeling  for  the  thongs  that  bound 
Cameron's  hands.  In  a  few  moments  Cameron  was 
free  from  his  bonds. 

"Give  me  the  knife,"  he  whispered.  It  was  placed 
in  his  hands. 

"Tell  you  squaw,"  said  the  voice,  "sick  boy  not 
forget. ' ' 

'  *  I  will  tell  her, ' '  replied  Cameron.  * '  She  will  never 
forget  you."  The  boy  laid  his  hand  on  Cameron's 
lips  and  was  gone. 

Soon  Jerry  too  was  free.  Slowly  they  wormed 
t&eir  way  through  the  flimsy  brush  wall  at  the  back, 
and,  crouching  low,  looked  about  them.  The  camp 
was  deep  in  sleep.  The  fires  were  smoldering  in  their 


THE    LAST    PATROL  333 

ashes.  Not  an  Indian  was  moving.  Lying  across  the 
front  of  their  little  hut  the  sleeping  form  of  their 
guard  could  be  seen.  The  forest  was  still  black  behind 
them,  but  already  there  was  in  the  paling  stars  the 
faint  promise  of  the  dawn.  Hardly  daring  to  breathe, 
they  rose  and  stood  looking  at  each  other. 

"No  stir,"  said  Jerry  with  his  lips  at  Cameron's 
ear.  He  dropped  on  his  hands  and  knees  and  began 
carefully  to  remove  every  twig  from  his  path  so  that 
his  feet  might  rest  only  upon  the  deep  leafy  mold  of 
the  forest.  Carefully  Cameron  followed  his  example, 
and,  working  slowly  and  painfully,  they  gained  the 
cover  of  the  dark  forest  away  from  the  circle  of  the 
firelight. 

Scarcely  had  they  reached  that  shelter  when  an 
Indian  rose  from  beside  a  fire,  raked  the  embers  to- 
gether, and  threw  some  sticks  upon  it.  As  Cameron 
stood  watching  him,  his  heart-beat  thumping  in  his 
ears,  a  rotten  twig  snapped  under  his  feet.  The  Indian 
turned  his  face  in  their  direction,  and,  bending  for- 
ward, appeared  to  be  listening  intently.  Instantly 
Jerry,  stooping  down,  made  a  scrambling  noise  in  the 
leaves,  ending  with  a  thump  upon  the  ground.  Imme- 
diately the  Indian  relaxed  his  listening  attitude,  satis- 
fied that  a  rabbit  was  scurrying  through  the  forest 
upon  his  own  errand  bent.  Rigidly  silent  they  stood, 
watching  him  till  long  after  he  had  lain  down  again  in 
his  place,  then  once  more  they  began  their  painful 
advance,  clearing  from  treacherous  twigs  every  place 
where  their  feet  should  rest.  Fortunately  for  their 
going  the  forest  here  was  largely  free  from  under- 
brush. Working  carefully  and  painfully  for  half  an 
hour,  and  avoiding  the  trail  by  the  Ghost  River,  they 
made  their  way  out  of  hearing  of  the  camp  and  then 


334          THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

set  off  at  snch  speed  as  their  path  allowed,  Jerry  in 
the  lead  and  Cameron  following. 

"Where  are  you  going,  Jerry?"  inquired  Cameron 
as  the  little  half-breed,  without  halt  or  hesitation, 
went  slipping  through  the  forest. 

'  *  Kananaskis, ' '  said  Jerry.  ' '  Strike  trail  near  Bow 
Beever. ' ' 

"Hold  up  for  a  moment,  Jerry.  I  want  to  talk  to 
you,"  said  Cameron. 

"No!    Mak'  speed  now.    Stop  in  brush." 

"All  right,"  said  Cameron,  following  close  upon  his 
heels. 

The  morning  broadened  into  day,  but  they  made 
no  pause  till  they  had  left  behind  them  the  open  timber 
and  gained  the  cover  of  the  forest  where  the  under- 
brush grew  thick.  Then  Jerry,  finding  a  dry  and 
sheltered  spot,  threw  himself  down  and  stretched  him- 
self at  full  length  waiting  for  Cameron's  word. 

"Tired,  Jerry?"  said  Cameron. 

"Non,"  replied  the  little  man  scornfully.  "When 
lie  down  tak'  'em  easy." 

* '  Good !  Now  listen !  Copperhead  is  on  his  way  to 
meet  the  Blackfeet,  but  I  fancy  he  is  going  to  be  dis- 
appointed." Then  Cameron  narrated  to  Jerry  the 
story  of  his  recent  interview  with  Crowfoot.  "So  I 
don't  think,"  he  concluded,  "any  Blackfeet  will  come. 
Copperhead  and  Eunning  Stream  are  going  to  be  sold 
this  time.  Besides  that  the  Police  are  on  their  way 
to  Kananaskis  following  our  trail.  They  will  reach 
Kananaskis  to-night  and  start  for  Ghost  River  to-mor- 
row. We  ought  to  get  Copperhead  between  us  some- 
where on  the  Ghost  River  trail  and  we  must  get  him 
to-day.  Where  will  he  be  now?" 


THE    LAST    PATROL  335 

Jerry  considered  the  matter,  then,  pointing  straight 
eastward,  he  replied: 

"On  trail  Kananaskis  not  far  from  Ghost  Eeever." 

"Will  he  be  that  far?"  inquired  Cameron.  "He 
would  have  to  sleep  and  eat,  Jerry." 

"Non!    No  sleep — hit  sam'  tarn'  he  run." 

"Then  it  is  quite  possible,"  said  Cameron,  "that  we 
may  head  him  off." 

"Mebbe — dunno  how  fas'  he  go,"  said  Jerry. 

"By  the  way,  Jerry,  when  do  we  eat?"  inquired 
Cameron. 

"Pull  belt  tight,"  said  Jerry  with  a  grin.  "Hit  at 
cache  on  trail." 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  you  had  the  good  sense  to 
cache  some  grub,  Jerry,  on  your  way  down?" 

"Jerry  lak'  squirrel,"  replied  the  half-breed. 
"Cache  grub  many  place — sometam  come  good." 

"Great  head,  Jerry.    Now,  where  is  the  cache?" 

"Halfway  Kananaskis  to  Ghost  Eeever." 

' '  Then,  Jerry,  we  must  make  that  Ghost  River  trail 
and  make  it  quick  if  we  are  to  intercept  Copper- 
head." 

"Bon!    We  mus'  mak'  beeg  speed  for  sure." 

And  "make  big  speed"  they  did,  with  the  result 
that  by  midday  they  struck  the  trail  not  far  from 
Jerry's  cache.  As  they  approached  the  trail  they  pro- 
ceeded with  extreme  caution,  for  they  knew  that  at 
any  moment  they  might  run  upon  Copperhead  and  his 
band  or  upon  some  of  their  Indian  pursuers  who  would 
assuredly  be  following  them  hard.  A  careful  scrutiny 
of  the  trail  showed  that  neither  Copperhead  nor  their 
pursuers  had  yet  passed  by. 

"Come  now  ver'  soon,"  said  Jerry,  as  he  left  the 
trail,  and,  plunging  into  the  brush,  led  the  way  with 


336         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

unerring  precision  to  where  he  had  made  his  cache. 
Quickly  they  secured  the  food  and  with  it  made  their 
way  back  to  a  position  from  which  they  could  com- 
mand a  view  of  the  trail. 

"Go  sleep  now,"  said  Jerry,  after  they  had  done. 
"Me  watch  one  hour." 

Gladly  Cameron  availed  himself  of  the  opportunity 
to  catch  up  his  sleep,  in  which  he  was  many  hours 
behind.  '  He  stretched  himself  on  the  ground  and  in  a 
moment's  time  lay  as  completely  unconscious  as  if 
dead.  But  before  half  of  his  allotted  time  was  gone 
he  was  awakened  by  Jerry's  hand  pressing  steadily 
upon  his  arm. 

' '  Indian  come, ' '  whispered  the  half-breed.  Instantly 
Cameron  was  wide-awake  and  fully  alert. 

"How  many,  Jerry?"  he  asked,  lying  with  his  ear 
to  the  ground. 

' '  Dunno.    T  'ree — four  mebbe. ' ' 

They  had  not  long  to  wait.  Almost  as  Jerry  was 
speaking  the  figure  of  an  Indian  came  into  view,  run- 
ning with  that  tireless  trot  that  can  wear  out  any  wild 
animal  that  roams  the  woods. 

* '  Copperhead ! ' '  whispered  Cameron,  tightening  his 
belt  and  making  as  if  to  rise. 

"Wait!"  replied  Jerry.     "One  more." 

Following  Copperhead,  and  running  not  close  upon 
him  but  at  some  distance  behind,  came  another  Indian, 
then  another,  till  three  had  passed  their  hiding-place. 

"Four  against  two,  Jerry,"  said  Cameron.  "That 
is  all  right.  They  have  their  knives,  I  see,  but  only 
one  gun.  We  have  no  guns  and  only  one  knife.  But 
Jerry,  we  can  go  in  and  kill  them  with  our  bare 
hands." 


THE    LAST    PATROL  337 

Jerry  nodded  carelessly.  He  had  fought  too  oftem 
against  much  greater  odds  in  Police  battles  to  be 
unduly  disturbed  at  the  present  odds. 

Silently  and  at  a  safe  distance  behind  they  fell  into 
the  wake  of  the  running  Indians,  Jerry  with  his  moc- 
casined  feet  leading  the  way.  Mile  after  mile  they 
followed  the  trail,  ever  on  the  alert  for  the  doubling 
back  of  those  whom  they  were  pursuing.  Suddenly 
Cameron  heard  a  sharp  hiss  from  Jerry  in  front. 
Swiftly  he  flung  himself  into  the  brush  and  lay  stilL 
Within  a  minute  he  saw  coming  back  upon  the  trail 
an  Indian,  silent  as  a  shadow  and  listening  at  every 
step.  The  Indian  passed  his  hiding-place  and  for  som« 
minutes  Cameron  lay  watching  until  he  saw  him  return 
in  the  same  stealthy  manner.  After  some  minutes  had 
elapsed  a  soft  hiss  from  Jerry  brought  Cameron  cau- 
tiously out  upon  the  trail  once  more. 

"All  right,"  whispered  Jerry.  "All  Indians  pass 
on  before."  And  once  more  they  went  forward. 

A  second  time  during  the  afternoon  Jerry's  warn- 
ing hiss  sent  Cameron  into  the  brush  to  allow  an  In- 
dian to  scout  his  back  trail.  It  was  clear  that  th« 
presence  of  Cameron  and  the  half-breed  upon  the 
Ghost  Kiver  trail  had  awakened  the  suspicion  in  Cop- 
perhead's mind  that  the  plan  to  hold  a  powwow  at 
Manitou  Rock  was  known  to  the  Police  and  that  they 
were  on  his  trail.  It  became  therefore  increasingly 
evident  to  Cameron  that  any  plan  that  involved  the 
possibility  of  taking  Copperhead  unawares  would  have 
to  be  abandoned.  He  called  Jerry  back  to  him. 

"Jerry,"  he  said,  "if  that  Indian  doubles  back  on 
his  track  again  I  mean  to  get  him.  If  we  get  him 
the  other  chaps  will  follow.  If  I  only  had  a  gun !  But 
this  knife  is  no  use  to  me." 


338         THE    SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 

''Give  heem  to  me,"  said  Jerry  eagerly.  "I  find 
heem  good." 

It  was  toward  the  close  of  tlie  afternoon  when  again 
Jerry's  hiss  warned  Cameron  that  the  Indian  was  re- 
turning upon  his  trail.  Cameron  stepped  into  the 
brush  at  the  side,  and,  crouching  low,  prepared  for 
the  encounter,  but  as  he  was  about  to  spring  Jerry 
flashed  past  him,  and,  hurling  himself  upon  the  In- 
dian's back,  gripped  him  by  the  throat  and  bore  him 
choking  to  earth,  knocking  the  wind  out  of  him  and 
rendering  him  powerless.  Jerry's  knife  descended 
once  bright,  once  red,  and  the  Indian  with  a  horrible 
gasping  cry  lay  still. 

" Quick!"  cried  Cameron,  seizing  the  dead  man  by 
the  shoulders.  ''Lift  him  up!" 

Jerry  sprang  to  seize  the  legs,  and,  taking  care  not 
to  break  down  the  brush  on  either  side  of  the  trail, 
they  lifted  the  body  into  the  thick  underwood  and  con- 
cealing themselves  beside  it  awaited  events.  Hardly 
were  they  out  of  sight  when  they  heard  the  soft  pad 
of  several  feet  running  down  the  trail.  Opposite  them 
the  feet  stopped  abruptly. 

' '  Huh ! ' '  grunted  the  Indian  runner,  and  darted  back 
by  the  way  he  had  come. 

"Heem  see  blood,"  whispered  Jerry.  "Go  back  tell 
Copperhead." 

With  every  nerve  strung  to  its  highest  tension  they 
waited,  crouching,  Jerry  tingling  and  quivering  with 
the  intensity  of  his  excitement,  Cameron  quiet,  cool, 
as  if  assured  of  the  issue. 

"I  am  going  to  get  that  devil  this  time,  Jerry," 
he  breathed.  "He  dragged  me  by  the  neck  once.  I 
will  show  him  something," 

Jerry  laid  his  hand  upon  his  arm.    At  a  little  dis- 


THE    LAST    PATROL  339 

tance  from  them  there  was  a  sound  of  creeping  steps. 
A  few  moments  they  waited  and  at  their  side  the  brush 
began  to  quiver.  A  moment  later  beside  Cameron's 
face  a  hand  carrying  a  rifle  parted  the  screen  of 
spruce  boughs.  Quick  as  a  flash  Cameron  seized  the 
wrist,  gripping  it  with  both  hands,  and,  putting  his 
weight  into  the  swing,  flung  himself  backwards ;  at  the 
same  time  catching  the  body  with  his  knee,  he  heaved 
it  clear  over  their  heads  and  landed  it  hard  against  a 
tree.  The  rifle  tumbled  from  the  Indian 's  hand  and  he 
lay  squirming  on  the  ground.  Immediately  as  Jerry 
sprang  for  the  rifle  a  second  Indian  thrust  his  face 
through  the  screen,  caught  sight  of  Jerry  with  the 
rifle,  darted  back  and  disappeared  with  Jerry  hard 
upon  his  trail.  Scarcely  had  they  vanished  into  the 
brush  when  Cameron,  hearing  a  slight  sound  at  his 
back,  turned  swiftly  to  see  a  tall  Indian  charging  upon 
him  with  knife  raised  to  strike.  He  had  barely  time 
to  thrust  up  his  arm  and  divert  the  blow  from  his  neck 
to  his  shoulder  when  the  Indian  wTas  upon  him  like  a 
wild  cat. 

' 'Ha!  Copperhead!"  cried  Cameron  with  exulta- 
tion, as  he  flung  him  off.  ' '  At  last  I  have  you !  Your 
time  has  come!" 

The  Sioux  paused  in  his  attack,  looking  scornfully  at 
his  antagonist.  He  was  dressed  in  a  highly  embroid- 
ered tight-fitting  deerskin  coat  and  leggings. 

1 '  Huh ! "  he  grunted  in  a  voice  of  quiet,  concentrated 
fury.  ' '  The  white  dog  will  die. ' ' 

''No,  Copperhead,"  replied  Cameron  quietly.  "You 
have  a  knife,  I  have  none,  but  I  shall  lead  you  like  a 
dog  into  the  Police  guard-house." 

The  Sioux  said  nothing  in  reply,  but  kept  circling 


340         THE   SUN  DANCE   TRAIL 

lightly  on  his  toes  waiting  his  chance  to  spring.  As 
the  two  men  stood  facing  each  other  there  was  little  to 
choose  between  them  in  physical  strength  and  agility 
as  well  as  in  intelligent  fighting  qualities.  There  was 
this  difference,  however,  that  the  Indian's  fighting  had 
ever  been  to  kill,  the  white  man's  simply  to  win.  But 
this  difference  to-day  had  ceased  to  exist.  There  was 
in  Cameron 's  mind  the  determination  to  kill  if  need  be. 
One  immense  advantage  the  Indian  held  in  that  he 
possessed  a  weapon  in  the  use  of  which  he  was  a 
master  and  by  means  of  which  he  had  already  in- 
flicted a  serious  wound  upon  his  enemy,  a  wound  which 
as  yet  was  but  slightly  felt.  To  deprive  the  Indian  of 
that  knife  was  Cameron's  first  aim.  That  once 
achieved,  the  end  could  not  long  be  delayed;  for  the 
Indian,  though  a  skillful  wrestler,  knows  little  of  the 
art  of  fighting  with  his  hands. 

As  Cameron  stood  on  guard  watching  his  enemy's 
movements,  his  mind  recalled  in  swift  review  the  vari- 
ous wrongs  he  had  suffered  at  his  hands,  the  fright 
and  insult  to  his  wife,  the  devastation  of  his  home,  the 
cattle-raid  involving  the  death  of  Raven,  and  lastly 
he  remembered  with  a  deep  rage  his  recent  humilia- 
tion at  the  Indian's  hands  and  how  he  had  been  hauled 
along  by  the  neck  and  led  like  a  dog  into  the  Indian 
camp.  At  these  recollections  he  became  conscious  of  a 
burning  desire  to  humiliate  the  redskin  who  had  dared 
to  do  these  things  to  him. 

With  this  in  mind  he  waited  the  Indian's  attack. 
The  attack  came  swift  as  a  serpent's  dart,  a  feint  to 
strike,  a  swift  recoil,  then  like  a  flash  of  light  a  hard 
drive  with  the  knife.  But  quick  as  was  the  Indian's 
drive  Cameron  was  quicker.  Catching  the  knife-hand 
at  the  wrist  he  drew  it  sharply  down,  meeting  at  the 


341 


same  time  the  Indian's  chin  with  a  short,  hard  upper- 
cut  that  jarred  his  head  so  seriously  that  his  grip  on 
the  knife  relaxed  and  it  fell  from  his  hand.  Cameron 
kicked  it  behind  him  into  the  brush  while  the  Indian, 
with  a  mighty  wrench,  released  himself  from  Cam- 
eron's grip  and  sprang  back  free.  For  some  time  the 
Indian  kept  away  out  of  Cameron's  reach  as  if  uncer- 
tain of  himself.  Cameron  taunted  him. 

' '  Onawata  has  had  enough  !•  He  cannot  fight  unless 
he  has  a  knife!  See!  I  will  punish  the  great  Sioux 
Chief  like  a  little  child." 

So  saying,  Cameron  stepped  quickly  toward  him, 
made  a  few  passes  and  once,  twice,  with  his  open  hand 
slapped  the  Indian's  face  hard.  In  a  mad  fury  of 
passion  the  Indian  rushed  upon  him.  Cameron  met 
him  with  blows,  one  two,  three,  the  last  one  heavy 
enough  to  lay  him  on  the  ground  insensible. 

"Oh,  get  up!"  said  Cameron  contemptuously,  kick- 
ing him  as  he  might  a  dog.  ' '  Get  up  and  be  a  man ! ' ' 

Slowly  the  Indian  rose,  wiping  his  bleeding  lips,  hate 
burning  in  his  eyes,  but  in  them  also  a  new  look,  one 
of  fear. 

"Ha!  Onawata  is  a  great  fighter!"  smiled  Cam- 
eron, enjoying  to  the  full  the  humiliation  of  his  enemy. 

Slowly  the  Indian  gathered  himself  together.  He 
was  no  coward  and  he  was  by  no  means  beaten  as  yet, 
but  this  kind  of  fighting  was  new  to  him.  He  appar- 
ently determined  to  avoid  those  hammering  fists  of  the 
white  man.  With  extraordinary  agility  he  kept  out  of 
Cameron's  reach,  circling  about  him  and  dodging  in 
and  out  among  the  trees.  While  thus  pressing  hard 
upon  the  Sioux  Cameron  suddenly  became  conscious 
of  a  sensation  of  weakness.  The  bloodletting  of  the 
knife  wound  was  beginning  to  tell.  Cameron  began  to 


342         THE   SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 

dread  that  if  ever  this  Indian  made  up  his  mind  to  run 
away  he  might  yet  escape.  He  began  to  regret  his 
trifling  with  him  and  he  resolved  to  end  the  fight  as 
soon  as  possible  with  a  knock-out  blow. 

The  quick  eye  of  the  Indian  perceived  that  Cam- 
eron's breath  was  coming  quicker,  and,  still  keeping 
carefully  out  of  his  enemy's  reach,  he  danced  about 
more  swiftly  than  ever.  Cameron  realized  that  he 
must  bring  the  matter  quickly  to  an  end.  Feigning  a 
weakness  greater  than  he  felt,  he  induced  the  Indian 
to  run  in  upon  him,  but  this  time  the  Indian  avoided 
the  smashing  blow  with  which  Cameron  met  him,  and, 
locking  his  arms  about  his  antagonist  and  gripping 
him  by  the  wounded  shoulder,  began  steadily  to  wear 
him  to  the  ground.  Sickened  by  the  intensity  of  the 
pain  in  his  wounded  shoulder,  Cameron  felt  his 
strength  rapidly  leaving  him.  Gradually  the  Indian 
shifted  his  hand  up  from  the  shoulder  to  the  neck,  the 
fingers  working  their  way  toward  Cameron's  face. 
Well  did  Cameron  know  the  savage  trick  which  the 
Indian  had  in  mind.  In  a  few  minutes  more  those 
fingers  would  be  in  Cameron's  eyes  pressing  the  eye- 
balls from  their  sockets.  It  was  now  the  Indian's  turn 
to  jibe. 

' '  Huh ! "  he  exclaimed.  '  *  White  man  no  good.  Soon 
he  see  no  more." 

The  taunt  served  to  stimulate  every  ounce  of  Cam- 
eron's remaining  strength.  With  a  mighty  effort  he 
wrenched  the  Indian's  hand  from  his  face,  and,  tear- 
ing himself  free,  swung  his  clenched  fist  with  all  his 
weight  upon  the  Indian's  neck.  The  blow  struck  just 
beneath  the  jugular  vein.  The  Indian's  grip  relaxed, 
he  staggered  back  a  pace,  half  stunned.  Summoning 
all  his  force,  Cameron  followed  up  with  one  straight 


THE    LAST    PATKOL  343 

blow  upon  the  chin.  He  needed  no  other.  As  if 
stricken  by  an  axe  the  Indian  fell  to  the  earth  and 
lay  as  if  dead.  Sinking  on  the  ground  beside  him 
Cameron  exerted  all  his  will-power  to  keep  himself 
from  fainting.  After  a  few  minutes'  fierce  struggle 
with  himself  he  was  sufficiently  revived  to  be  able  to 
bind  the  Indian's  hands  behind  his  back  with  his  belt. 
Searching  among  the  brushwood,  he  found  the  In- 
dian's knife,  and  cut  from  his  leather  trousers  suffi- 
cient thongs  to  bind  his  legs,  working  with  fierce  and 
concentrated  energy  while  his  strength  lasted.  At 
length  as  the  hands  were  drawn  tight  darkness  fell 
upon  his  eyes  and  he  sank  down  unconscious  beside  his 
foe. 

"There,  that's  better!  He  has  lost  a  lot  of  blood, 
but  we  have  checked  that  flow  and  he  will  soon  be  right. 
Hello,  old  man!  Just  waking  up,  are  you?  Lie  per- 
fectly still.  Come,  you  must  lie  still.  What?  Oh,  Cop- 
perhead? Well,  he  is  safe  enough.  What?  No,  never 
fear.  We  know  the  old  snake  and  we  have  tied  him 
fast.  Jerry  has  a  fine  assortment  of  knots  adorning 
his  person.  Now,  no  more  talking  for  half  a  day. 
Your  wound  is  clean  enough.  A  mighty  close  shave  it 
was,  but  by  to-morrow  you  will  be  fairly  fit.  Copper- 
head? Oh,  never  mind  Copperhead.  I  assure  you  he 
is  safe  enough.  Hardly  fit  to  travel  yet.  WThat  hap- 
pened to  him?  Looks  as  if  a  tree  had  fallen  upon 
him."  To  which  chatter  of  Dr.  Martin's  Cameron 
could  only  make  feeble  answer,  "For  God's  sake  don't 
let  him  go ! " 

After  the  capture  of  Copperhead  the  camp  at  Mani- 
tou  Lake  faded  away,  for  when  the  Police  Patrol 
under  Jerry's  guidance  rode  up  the  Ghost  River  Trail 


344         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

they  found  only  the  cold  ashes  of  camp-fires  and  the 
debris  that  remains  after  a  powwow. 

Three  days  later  Cameron  rode  back  into  Fort  Cal- 
gary, sore  but  content,  for  at  his  stirrup  and  bound 
to  his  saddle-horn  rode  the  Sioux  Chief,  proud,  un- 
tamed, but  a  prisoner.  As  he  rode  into  the  little  town 
his  quick  eyes  flashed  scorn  upon  all  the  curious  gazers, 
but  in  their  depths  beneath  the  scorn  there  looked  forth 
an  agony  that  only  Cameron  saw  and  understood.  He 
had  played  for  a  great  stake  and  had  lost. 

As  the  patrol  rode  into  Fort  Calgary  the  little  town 
was  in  an  uproar  of  jubilation. 

"What's  the  row?"  inquired  the  doctor,  for  Cam- 
eron felt  too  weary  to  inquire. 

"A  great  victory  for  the  troops!"  said  a  young 
chap  dressed  in  cow-boy  garb.  "Middleton  has 
smashed  the  half-breeds  at  Batoche.  Eiel  is  captured. 
The  whole  rebellion  business  is  bust  up." 

Cameron  threw  a  swift  glance  at  the  Sioux's  face. 
A  fierce  anxiety  looked  out  of  the  gleaming  eyes. 

' '  Tell  him,  Jerry, ' '  said  Cameron  to  the  half-breed 
who  rode  at  his  other  side. 

As  Jerry  told  the  Indian  of  the  total  collapse  of 
the  rebellion  and  the  capture  of  its  leader  the  stern 
face  grew  eloquent  with  contempt. 

"Bah!"  he  said,  spitting  on  the  ground.  "Eiel  he 
much  fool — no  good  fight.  Indian  got  no  Chief — no 
Chief."  The  look  on  his  face  all  too  clearly  revealed 
that  his  soul  was  experiencing  the  bitterness  of  death. 

Cameron  almost  pitied  him,  but  he  spoke  no  word. 
There  was  nothing  that  one  could  say  and  besides  he 
was  far  too  weary  for  anything  but  rest.  At  the  gate 
of  the  Barrack  yard  his  old  Superintendent  from  Fort 
Macleod  met  the  party. 


THE    LAST    PATROL  345 

"You  are  wounded,  Cameron?"  exclaimed  the  Su- 
perintendent, glancing  in  alarm  at  Cameron's  wan 
face. 

"I  have  got  him,"  replied  Cameron,  loosing  the 
lariat  from  the  horn  of  his  saddle  and  handing  the  end 
to  an  orderly.  "But,"  he  added,  "it  seems  hardly 
worth  while  now." 

"Worth  while!  Worth  while!"  exclaimed  the  Su- 
perintendent with  as  much  excitement  as  he  ever  al- 
lowed to  appear  in  his  tone.  "Let  me  tell  you,  Cam- 
eron, that  if  any  one  thing  has  kept  me  from  getting 
into  a  blue  funk  during  these  months  it  was  the  feel- 
ing that  you  were  on  patrol  along  the  Sun  Dance 
Trail." 

"Funk?"  exclaimed  Cameron  with  a  smile. 
"Funk?"  But  while  he  smiled  he  looked  into  the  cold2 
gray  eyes  of  his  Chief,  and,  noting  the  unwonted  glow 
in  them,  he  felt  that  after  all  his  work  as  the  Patrol 
of  the  Sun  Dance  Trail  was  perhaps  worth  while. 


346         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 
CHAPTEE   XXI 

WHY   THE   DOCTOR   STAYED 

THE  BIG  HORN  RIVER,  fed  by  July  suns  burn- 
ing upon  glaciers  high  up  between  the  moun- 
tain-peaks, was  running  full  to  its  lips  and 
gleaming  like  a  broad  ribbon  of  silver,  where,  after 
rushing  hurriedly  out  of  the  rock-ribbed  foothills,  it 
settled  down  into  a  deep  steady  flow  through  the  wide 
valley  of  its  own  name.  On  the  tawny  undulating  hill- 
sides, glorious  in  the  splendid  July  sun,  herds  of  cattle 
and  horses  were  feeding,  making  with  the  tawny  hill- 
sides and  the  silver  river  a  picture  of  luxurious  ease 
and  quiet  security  that  fitted  well  with  the  mood  of  the 
two  men  sitting  upon  the  shady  side  of  the  Big  Horn 
Ranch  House. 

Inspector  Dickson  was  enjoying  to  the  full  his  after- 
dinner  pipe,  and  with  him  Dr.  Martin,  who  was  en- 
gaged in  judiciously  pumping  the  Inspector  in  regard 
to  the  happenings  of  the  recent  campaign — success- 
fully, too,  except  where  he  touched  those  events  in 
which  the  Inspector  himself  had  played  a  part. 

The  war  was  over.  Batoche  had  practically  settled 
the  Rebellion.  Riel  was  in  his  cell  at  Regina  awaiting 
trial  and  .execution.  Pound-maker,  Little  Pine,  Big 
Bear  and  some  of  their  other  Chiefs  were  similarly 
disposed  of.  Copperhead  at  Macleod  was  fretting 
his  life  out  like  an  eagle  in  a  cage.  The  various  regi- 
ments of  citizen  soldiers  had  gone  back  to  their  homes 
to  be  received  with  vociferous  welcome,  except  such 
of  them  as  were  received  in  reverent  silence,  to  be 
laid  away  among  the  immortals  with  quiet  falling 
tears.  The  Police  were  busily  engaged  in  wiping  up 


WHY   THE   DOCTOB   STAYED     347 

the  debris  of  the  Eebellion.  The  Commissioner,  intent 
upon  his  duty,  was  riding  the  marches,  bearing  in 
grim  silence  the  criticism  of  empty-headed  and  omnis- 
cient scribblers,  because,  forsooth,  he  had  obeyed  his 
Chief's  orders,  and,  resisting  the  greatest  provocation 
to  do  otherwise,  had  held  steadfastly  to  his  post, 
guarding  with  resolute  courage  what  was  committed  to 
his  trust.  The  Superintendents  and  Inspectors  were 
back  at  their  various  posts,  settling  upon  the  reserves 
wandering  bands  of  Indians,  some  of  whom  were  just 
awakening  to  the  fact  that  they  had  missed  a  great 
opportunity  and  were  grudgingly  surrendering  to  the 
inevitable,  and,  under  the  wise,  firm,  judicious  han- 
dling of  the  Police,  were  slowly  returning  to  their 
pre-rebellion  status. 

The  Western  ranches  were  rejoicing  kf  a  sense  of 
vast  relief  from  the  terrible  pall  that  like  a  death- 
cloud  had  been  hanging  over  them  for  six  months  and 
all  Western  Canada  was  thrilling  with  the  expectation 
of  a  new  era  of  prosperity  consequent  upon  its  being 
discovered  by  the  big  world  outside. 

Upon  the  two  men  thus  discussing,  Mrs.  Cameron, 
carrying  in  her  arms  her  babe,  bore  down  in  magnifi- 
cent and  modest  pride,  wearing  with  matronly  grace 
her  new  glory  of  a  great  achievement,  the  greatest 
open  to  womankind. 

' '  He  has  just  waked  up  from  a  very  fine  sleep, ' '  she 
exclaimed,  "to  make  your  acquaintance,  Inspector.  I 
hope  you  duly  appreciate  the  honor  done  you." 

The  Inspector  rose  to  his  feet  and  saluted  the  new 
arrival  with  becoming  respect. 

"Now,"  said  Mrs.  Cameron,  settling  herself  down 
with  an  air  of  determined  resolve,  "I  want  to  hear 
all  about  it." 


348         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

"Meaning?"  said  the  Inspector. 

"Meaning,  to  begin  with,  that  famous  march  of 
yours  from  Calgary  to  the  far  North  land  where 
you  did  so  many  heroic  things." 

But  the  Inspector's  talk  had  a  trick  of  fading  away 
at  the  end  of  the  third  sentence  and  it  was  with 
difficulty  that  they  could  get  him  started  again. 

"You  are  most  provoking!"  finally  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Cameron,  giving  up  the  struggle.  "Isn't  he,  baby?" 

The  latter  turned  upon  the  Inspector  two  steady 
blue  eyes  beaming  with  the  intelligence  of  a  two 
months '  experience  of  men  and  things,  and  announced 
his  grave  disapproval  of  the  Inspector's  conduct  in 
a  distinct  '  *  goo ! ' ' 

"There!"  exclaimed  his  mother  triumphantly.  "I 
told  you  so.  What  have  you  now  to  say  for  yourself?" 

The  Inspector  regarded  the  blue-eyed  atom  with 
reverent  wonder. 

"Most  remarkable  young  person  I  ever  saw  in  my 
life,  Mrs.  Cameron,"  he  asserted  positively. 

The  proud  mother  beamed  upon  him. 

"Well,  baby,  he  is  provoking,  but  we  will  forgive 
him  since  he  is  so  clever  at  discovering  your  remark 
able  qualities." 

' '  Pshaw ! ' '  said  Dr.  Martin.  * '  That 's  nothing.  Any 
one  could  see  them.  They  stick  right  out  of  that 
baby." 

"Dear  Dr.  Martin,"  explained  the  mother  with  af- 
fectionate emphasis,  "what  a  way  you  have  of  putting 
things.  But  I  wonder  what  keeps  Allan?"  continued 
Mrs.  Cameron.  "He  promised  faithfully  to  be  home 
before  dinner."  She  rose,  and,  going  to  the  side  of 
the  house,  looked  long  and  anxiously  up  toward  the 


WHY   THE   DOCTOR    STAYED     349 

foothills.  Dr.  Martin  followed  her  and  stood  at  her 
side  gazing  in  the  same  direction. 

"What  a  glorious  view  it  is!"  she  said.  "I  never 
tire  of  looking  over  the  hills  and  up  to  the  great 
mountains. ' ' 

"What  the  deuce  is  the  fellow  doing?"  exclaimed 
the  doctor,  disgust  and  rage  mingling  in  his  tone. 
' ;  Great  Heavens !  She  is  kissing  him ! ' ' 

"Who?  What?"  exclaimed  Mandy.  "Oh!"  she 
cried,  her  eyes  following  the  doctor's  and  lighting 
upon  two  figures  that  stood  at  the  side  of  the  poplar 
bluff  in  an  attitude  sufficiently  compromising  to  justify 
the  doctor's  exclamation. 

"What?  It'sMoira— and— and— it's  Smith!  What 
does  it  mean?"  The  doctor's  language  appeared  un- 
equal to  his  emotions.  "Mean?"  he  cried,  after  an 
exhausting  interlude  of  expletives.  "Mean?  Oh,  I 
don't  know — and  I  don't  care.  It's  pretty  plain  what 
it  means.  It  makes  no  difference  to  me.  I  gave  her 
up  to  that  other  fellow  who  saved  her  life  and  then 
picturesquely  got  himself  killed.  There  now,  forgive 
me,  Mrs.  Cameron.  I  know  I  am  a  brute.  I  should 
not  have  said  that.  Don't  look  at  me  so.  Eaven 
was  a  fine  chap  and  I  don't  mind  her  losing  her  heart 
to  him — but  really  this  is  too  much.  Smith!  Of  all 
men  under  heaven — Smith!  Why,  look  at  his  legs!" 

"His  legs?  Dr.  Martin,  I  am  ashamed  of  you.  I 
don't  care  what  kind  of  legs  he  has.  Smith  is  an 
honorable  fellow  and — and — so  good  he  was  to  us. 
Why,  when  Allan  and  the  rest  of  you  were  all  away 
he  was  like  a  brother  through  all  those  terrible  days. 
I  can  never  forget  his  splendid  kindness — but— 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  Mrs.  Cameron,  I  beg  your 
garden.  Undoubtedly  he  is  a  fine  fellow.  I  am  an 


350         THE   SUN   DANCE   TEAIL 

ass,  a  jealous  ass — might  as  well  own  it.  But,  really, 
I  cannot  quite  stand  seeing  her  throw  herself  at 
Smith — Smith!  Oh,  I  know,  I  know,  he  is  all  right. 
But  oh — well — at  any  rate  thank  God  I  saw  him  at  it. 
It  will  keep  me  from  openly  and  uselessly  abasing 
myself  to  her  and  making  a  fool  of  myself  generally. 
But  Smith!  Great  God!  Smith!  Well,  it  will  help 
to  cure  me." 

Mrs.  Cameron  stood  by  in  miserable  silence. 

"Oh,  Dr.  Martin,"  at  length  she  groaned  tearfully, 
"I  am  so  disappointed.  I  was  so  hoping,  and  I  was 
sure  it  was  all  right — and — and — oh,  what  does  it 
mean?  Dear  Dr.  Martin,  I  cannot  tell  you  how  I  feel." 

"Oh,  hang  it,  Mrs.  Cameron,  don't  pity  me.  I'll 
get  over  it.  A  little  surgical  operation  in  the  region  of 
the  pericardium  is  all  that  is  required." 

"What  are  you  talking  about?"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Cameron,  vaguely  listening  to  him  and  busy  with  her 
own  thoughts  the  while. 

"Talking  about,  madam?  Talking  about?  I  am 
talking  about  that  organ,  the  central  organ  of  the 
vascular  system  of  animals,  a  hollow  muscular  struc- 
ture that  propels  the  blood  by  alternate  contractions 
and  dilatations,  which  in  the  mammalian  embryo  first 
appears  as  two  tubes  lying  under  the  head  and  imme- 
diately behind  the  first  visceral  arches,  but  gradually 
moves  back  and  becomes  lodged  in  the  thorax." 

"Oh,  do  stop!  What  nonsense  are  you  talking 
now?"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Cameron,  waking  up  as  from 
a  dream.  "No,  don't  go.  You  must  not  go." 

' '  I  am  going,  and  I  am  going  to  leave  this  country, ' ' 
said  the  doctor.  "I  am  going  East.  No,  this  is  no 
sudden  resolve.  I  have  thought  of  it  for  some  time, 
and  now  I  will  go. ' ' 


WHY   THE   DOCTOR    STAYED     351 

"Well,  you  must  wait  at  least  till  Allan  returns. 
You  must  say  good-by  to  him."  She  followed  the 
doctor  anxiously  back  to  his  seat  beside  the  Inspector. 
"Here,"  she  cried,  "hold  baby  a  minute.  There  are 
some  things  I  must  attend  to.  I  would  give  him  to 
the  Inspector,  but  he  would  not  know  how  to  handle 
him." 

"God  forbid!"  ejaculated  the  Inspector  firmly. 

"But  I  tell  you  I  must  get  home,"  said  the  doctor 
in  helpless  wrath. 

"Nonsense!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Cameron.  "Look 
out!  You  are  not  holding  him  properly.  There  now, 
you  have  made  him  cry." 

"Pinched  him!"  muttered  the  Inspector.  "I  call 
that  most  unfair.  Mean  advantage  to  take  of  the 
young  person. ' ' 

The  doctor  glowered  at  the  Inspector  and  set  him- 
self with  ready  skill  to  remedy  the  wrong  he  had 
wrought  in  the  young  person's  disposition  while  the 
mother,  busying  herself  ostentatiously  with  her  domes- 
tic duties,  finally  disappeared  around  the  house,  mak- 
ing for  the  bluff.  As  soon  as  she  was  out  of  earshot 
she  raised  her  voice  in  song. 

"I  must  give  the  fools  warning,  I  suppose,"  she 
said  to  herself.  In  the  pauses  of  her  singing,  "Oh, 
what  does  she  mean?  I  could  just  shake  her.  I  am 
so  disappointed.  Smith!  Smith!  Well,  Smith  is  all 
right,  but — oh,  I  must  talk  to  her.  And  yet,  I  am  so 
angry — yes,  I  am  disgusted.  I  was  so  sure  that  every- 
thing was  all  right.  Ah,  there  she  is  at  last,  and — 
well — thank  goodness  he  is  gone. 

"Oh-h-h-h-0,  Moira!"  she  cried.  "Now,  I  must 
keep  my  temper, ' '  she  added  to  herself.  ' '  But  I  am  so 
eross  about  this.  Oh-h-h-h-0,  Moira!" 


352         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

'  *  Oh-h-h-h-0 ! ' '  called  Moira  in  reply. 

"She  looks  positively  happy.  Ugh!  Disgusting! 
And  so  lovely  too." 

' '  Did  you  want  me,  Mandy !  I  am  so  sorry  I  forgot 
all  about  the  tea." 

"So  I  should  suppose,"  snapped  Mandy  crossly. 
"I  saw  you  were  too  deeply  engaged  to  think." 

"You  saw?"  exclaimed  the  girl,  a  startled  dismay 
in  her  face. 

"Yes,  and  I  would  suggest  that  you  select  a  less 
conspicuous  stage  for  your  next  scene.  Certainly  I 
got  quite  a  shock.  If  it  had  been  Raven,  Moira,  I 
could  have  stood  it." 

'  *  Raven !  Raven !  Oh,  stop !  Not  a  word,  Mandy. ' ' 
Her  voice  was  hushed  and  there  was  a  look  of  pain 
in  her  eyes. 

*  *  But  Smith ! ' '  went  on  Mandy  relentlessly.  ' '  I  was 
too  disgusted." 

"Well,  what  is  wrong  with  Mr.  Smith?"  inquired 
Moira,  her  chin  rising. 

"Oh,  there  is  nothing  wrong  with  Smith,"  replied 
her  sister-in-law  crossly,  "but — well — Massing  him,  you 
know.  * ' 

"Kissing  him?"  echoed  Moira  faintly.  "Kissing 
him?  I  did  not " 

"It  looked  to  me  uncommonly  like  it  at  any  rate," 
said  Mandy.  "You  surely  don't  deny  that  you  were 
kissing  him?" 

"I  was  not.  I  mean,  it  was  Smith — perhaps — yes, 
I  think  Smith  did " 

"Well,  it  was  a  silly  thing  to  do." 

"Silly!  If  I  want  to  kiss  Mr.  Smith,  why  is  it 
anybody's  business?" 


WHY   THE   DOCTOR    STAYED     353 

" That's  just  it,"  said  Mandy  indignantly.  "Why 
should  you  want  to?" 

"Well,  that  is  my  affair,"  said  Moira  in  an  angry- 
tone,  and  with  a  high  head  and  lofty  air  she  appeared 
in  the  doctor's  presence. 

But  Dr.  Martin  was  apparently  oblivious  of  both 
her  lofty  air  and  the  angle  of  her  chin.  He  was  strug- 
gling to  suppress  from  observation  a  tumult  of  min- 
gled passions  of  jealousy,  rage  and  humiliation.  That 
this  girl  whom  for  four  years  he  had  loved  with  the 
full  strength  of  Ms  intense  nature  should  have  given 
herself  to  another  was  grief  enough ;  but  the  fact  that 
this  other  should  have  been  a  man  of  Smith's  caliber 
seemed  to  add  insult  to  his  grief.  He  felt  that  not 
only  had  she  humiliated  him  but  herself  as  well. 

"If  she  is  the  kind  of  girl  that  enjoys  kissing 
Smith  I  don't  want  her,"  he  said  to  himself  savagely, 
and -then  cursed  himself  that  he  knew  it  was  a  lie. 
For  no  matter  how  she  should  affront  him  or  humiliate 
herself  he  well  knew  he  should  take  her  gladly  on 
his  bended  knees  from  Smith's  hands.  The  cure 
somehow  was  not  working,  but  he  would  allow  no  one 
to  suspect  it.  His  voice  was  even  and  his  manner 
cheerful  as  ever.  Only  Mrs.  Cameron,  who  held  the 
key  to  his  heart,  suspected  the  agony  through  which 
he  was  passing  during  the  tea-hour.  And  it  was  to 
secure  respite  for  him  that  the  tea  was  hurried  and 
the  doctor  packed  off  to  saddle  Pepper  and  round  up 
the  cows  for  the  milking. 

Pepper  was  by  birth  and  breeding  a  cow-horse,  and 
once  set  upon  a  trail  after  a  bunch  of  cows  he  could 
be  trusted  to  round  them  up  with  little  or  no  aid 
from  his  rider.  Hence  once  astride  Pepper  and 
Pepper  with  his  nose  pointed  toward  the  ranging  cows, 


354          THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

the  doctor  could  allow  his  heart  to  roam  at  will.  And 
like  a  homing  pigeon,  his  heart,  after  some  faint  strug- 
gles in  the  grip  of  its  owner's  will,  made  swift  flight 
toward  the  far-away  Highland  glen  across  the  sea,  the 
Cuagh  Oir. 

With  deliberate  purpose  he  set  himself  to  live  again 
the  tender  and  ineffaceable  memories  of  that  eventful 
visit  to  the  glen  when  first  his  eyes  were  filled  with 
the  vision  of  the  girl  with  the  sunny  hair  and  the 
sunny  eyes  who  that  day  seemed  to  fill  the  very  glen 
and  ever  since  that  day  his  heart  with  glory. 

With  deliberate  purpose,  too,  he  set  himself  to  re- 
call the  glen  itself,  its  lights  and  shadows,  its  purple 
hilltops,  its  emerald  loch  far  down  at  the  bottom,  the 
little  clachan  on  the  hillside  and  up  above  it  the  old 
manor-house.  But  ever  and  again  his  heart  would 
pause  to  catch  anew  some  flitting  glance  of  the  brown 
eyes,  some  turn  of  the  golden  head,  some  cadence  of 
the  soft  Highland  voice,  some  fitful  illusive  sweetness 
of  the  smile  upon  the  curving  lips,  pause  and  return 
upon  its  tracks  to  feel  anew  that  subtle  rapture  of 
the  first  poignant  thrill,  lingering  over  each  separate 
memory  as  a  drunkard  lingers  regretful  over  his  last 
sweet  drops  of  wine. 

Meantime  Pepper's  intelligent  diligence  had  sent 
every  cow  home  to  its  milking,  and  so,  making  his 
way  by  a  short  cut  that  led  along  the  Big  Horn  Eiver 
and  round  the  poplar  bluff,  the  doctor,  suddenly  wak- 
ing from  his  dream  of  the  past,  faced  with  a  fresh  and 
sharper  stab  the  reality  of  the  present.  The  sudden- 
ness and  sharpness  of  the  pain  made  him  pull  his 
horse  up  short. 

"I'll  cut  this  country  and  go  East,"  he  said  aloud, 
coming  to  a  conclusive  decision  upon  a  plan  long  con- 


WHY   THE   DOCTOR   STAYED     355 

sidered,  "I'll  go  in  for  specializing.  I  have  done  with 
all  this  nonsense." 

He  sat  his  horse  looking  eastward  over  the  hills 
that  rolled  far  away  to  the  horizon.  His  eye  wan- 
dered down  the  river  gleaming  now  like  gold  in  the 
sunset  glow.  He  had  learned  to  love  this  land  of 
great  sunlit  spaces  and  fresh  blowing  winds,  but  this 
evening  its  very  beauty  appeared  intolerable  to  him. 
Ever  since  the  death  of  Raven  upon  that  tragic  night 
of  the  cattle-raid  he  had  been  fighting  his  bitter  loss 
and  disappointment;  with  indifferent  success,  it  is 
true,  but  still  not  without  the  hope  of  attaining  final 
peace  of  soul.  This  evening  he  knew  that,  while  he 
lived  in  this  land,  peace  would  never  come  to  him,  for 
his  heart-wound  never  would  heal. 

"I  will  go,"  he  said  again.  "I  will  say  good-by 
to-night.  By  Jove!  I  feel  better  already.  Come 
along,  Pepper!  Wake  up!" 

Pepper  woke  up  to  some  purpose  and  at  a  smart 
canter  carried  the  doctor  on  his  way  round  the  bluff 
toward  a  gate  that  opened  into  a  lane  leading  to  the 
stables.  At  the  gate  a  figure  started  up  suddenly  from 
the  shadow  of  a  poplar.  With  a  snort  and  in  the 
midst  of  his  stride  Pepper  swung  on  his  heels  with 
such  amazing  abruptness  that  his  rider  was  flung  from 
his  saddle,  fortunately  upon  his  feet. 

1 1  Confound  you  for  a  dumb-headed  fool !  What  are 
you  up  to  anyway?"  he  cried  in  a  sudden  rage,  recog- 
nizing Smith,  who  stood  beside  the  trail  in  an  abjectly 
apologetic  attitude. 

"Yes,"  cried  another  voice  from  the  shadow.  "Is 
he  not  a  fool?  You  would  think  he  ought  to  know 
Mr.  Smith  by  this  time.  But  Pepper  is  really  very 
stupid. ' ' 


356         THE   SUN   DANCE   TRAIL 

The  doctor  stood  speechless,  surprise,  disgust  and 
rage  struggling  for  supremacy  among  his  emotions. 
He  stood  gazing  stupidly  from  one  to  the  other,  utterly 
at  a  loss  for  words. 

"You  see,  Mr.  Smith,"  began  Moira  somewhat 
lamely,  "had  something  to  say  to  me  and  so  we— 
and  so  we  came — along  to  the  gate." 

"So  I  see,"  replied  the  doctor  gruffly. 

"You  see  Mr.  Smith  has  come  to  mean  a  great  deal 
to  me — to  us ' 

"So  I  should  imagine,"  replied  the  doctor. 

"His  self-sacrifice  and  courage  during  those  terri- 
ble days  we  can  never  forget." 

"Exactly  so — quite  right,"  replied  the  doctor,  stand- 
ing stiffly  beside  his  horse's  head. 

"You  do  not  know  people  all  at  once,"  continued 
Moira. 

"Ah!    Not  all  at  once,"  the  doctor  replied. 

"But  in  times  of  danger  and  trouble  one  gets  to 
know  them  quickly." 

"Sure  thing,"  said  the  doctor. 

"And  it  takes  times  of  danger  to  bring  out  the  hero 
in  a  man." 

"I  should  imagine  so,"  replied  the  doctor  with  his 
eyes  on  Smith's  childlike  and  beaming  face. 

"And  you  see  Mr.  Smith  was  really  our  whole  stay, 
and — and — we  came  to  rely  upon  him  and  we  found 
him  so  steadfast."  In  the  face  of  the  doctor's  stolid 
brevity  Moira  was  finding  conversation  difficult. 

"Steadfast!"  repeated  the  doctor.  "Exactly  so," 
his  eyes  upon  Smith's  wobbly  legs.  "Mr.  Smith  I 
consider  a  very  fortunate  man.  I  congratulate  him 
on- 

"Oh,  have  you  heard!    I  did  not  know  that " 


WHY   THE   DOCTOR   STAY  ED     357 

"Yes.    I  mean — not  exactly." 

"Who  told  you?  Is  it  not  splendid?"  enthusiasm 
shining  in  her  eyes. 

"Splendid!  Yes — that  is,  for  him,"  replied  the 
doctor  without  emotion.  "I  congratulate " 

' '  But  how  did  you  hear  ? ' ' 

"I  did  not  exactly  hear,  but  I  had  no  difficulty  in 
— ah — making  the  discovery." 

"Discovery?" 

"Yes,  discovery.  It  was  fairly  plain;,  I  might  say 
it  was  the  feature  of  the  view;  in  fact  it  stuck  right 
out  of  the  landscape — hit  you  in  the  eye,  so  to  speak." 

"The  landscape?    What  can  you  mean?" 

"Mean?  Simply  that  I  am  at  a  loss  as  to  whether 
Mr.  Smith  is  to  be  congratulated  more  upon  his  ex- 
quisite taste  or  upon  his  extraordinary  good  fortune. ' ' 

"Good  fortune,  yes,  is  it  not  splendid?" 

"Splendid  is  the  exact  word,"  said  the  doctor 
stiffly. 

"And  I  am  so  glad." 

;'Yes,  you  certainly  look  happy,"  replied  the  doctor 
with  a  grim  attempt  at  a  smile,  and  feeling  as  if  more 
enthusiasm  were  demanded  from  him.  "Let  me  offer 
you  my  congratulations  and  say  good-by.  I  am 
leaving. ' ' 

"You  will  be  back  soon,  though?" 

"Hardly.    I  am  leaving  the  West." 

"Leaving  the  West?    Why?    What?    When?" 
'To-night.    Now.    I  must  say  good-by." 
'To-night?     Now?"     Her  voice  sank  almost  to  a 
whisper.    Her  lips  were  white  and  quivering.    "But 
do  they  know  at  the  house?    Surely  this  is  sudden." 

"Oh,  no,  not  so  sudden.  I  have  thought  of  it  for 
some  time;  indeed,  I  have  made  my  plans." 


358 


"Oh — for  some  time?  You  have  made  your  plans? 
But  you  never  hinted  such  a  thing  to — to  any  of  us." 

"Oh,  well,  I  don't  tell  my  plans  to  all  the  world," 
said  the  doctor  with  a  careless  laugh. 

The  girl  shrank  from  him  as  if  he  had  cut  her  with 
his  riding  whip.  But,  swiftly  recovering  herself,  she 
cried  with  gay  reproach: 

"Why,  Mr.  Smith,  we  are  losing  all  our  friends  at 
once.  It  is  cruel  of  you  and  Dr.  Martin  to  desert  us 
at  the  same  time.  Mr.  Smith,  you  know,"  she  con- 
tinued, turning  to  the  doctor  with  an  air  of  exag- 
gerated vivacity,  "leaves  for  the  East  to-night  too." 

"Smith — leaving?"  The  doctor  gazed  stupidly  at 
that  person. 

' '  Yes,  you  know  he  has  come  into  a  big  fortune  and 
is  going  to  be " 

"A  fortune?" 

"Yes,  and  he  is  going  East  to  be  married." 

"Going  East  to  be  married?" 

"Yes,  and  I  was ' 

"Going  East?"  exclaimed  the  doctor.  "I  don't 
understand.  I  thought  you " 

"Oh,  yes,  his  young  lady  is  awaiting  him  in  the 
East.  And  he  is  going  to  spend  his  money  in  such  a 
splendid  way." 

"Going  East?"  echoed  the  doctor,  as  if  he  could  not 
fix  the  idea  with  sufficient  firmness  in  his  brain  to 
grasp  it  fully. 

' '  Yes,  I  have  just  told  you  so, ' '  replied  the  girl. 

"Married?"  shouted  the  doctor,  suddenly  rushing 
at  Smith  and  gripping  him  by  both  arms.  "Smith, 
you  sly  dog — you  lucky  dog!  Let  me  wish  you  joy, 
old  man.  By  Jove!  You  deserve  your  luck,  every 
bit  of  it.  Say,  that's  fine.  Ha!  ha!  Jeerupiterl 


WHY   THE   DOCTOR   STAYED     359 

Smith,  you  are  a  good  one  and  a  sly  one.  Shake 
again,  old  man.  Say,  by  Jove !  What  a  sell — I  mean 
what  a  joke!  Look  here,  Smith,  old  chap,  would  you 
mind  taking  Pepper  home  ?  I  am  rather  tired — riding, 
I  mean — beastly  wild  cows — no  end  of  a  run  after 
them.  See  you  down  at  the  house  later.  No,  no,  don't 
wait,  don't  mind  me.  I  am  all  right,  fit  as  a  fiddle- 
no,  not  a  bit  tired — I  mean  I  am  tired  riding.  Yes, 
rather  stiff — about  the  knees,  you  know.  Oh,  it's  all 
right.  Up  you  get,  old  man — there  you  are!  So, 
Smith,  you  are  going  to  be  married,  eh?  Lucky  dog! 
Tell  'em  I  am — tell  'em  we  are  coming.  My  horse? 
Oh,  well,  never  mind  my  horse  till  I  come  myself.  So 
long,  old  chap!  Ha!  ha!  old  man,  good-by.  Great 
Caesar!  What  a  sell!  Say,  let's  sit  down,  Moira,"  he 
said,  suddenly  growing  quiet  and  turning  to  the  girl, 
"till  I  get  my  wind.  Fine  chap  that  Smith.  Legs  a 
bit  wobbly,  but  don't  care  if  he  had  a  hundred  of  'em 
and  all  wobbly.  He's  all  right.  Oh,  my  soul!  What 
an  ass!  What  an  adjectival,  hyphenated  jackass! 
Don't  look  at  me  that  way  or  I  shall  climb  a  tree  and 
yell.  I'm  not  mad,  I  assure  you.  I  was  on  the  verge 
of  it  a  few  moments  ago,  but  it  is  gone.  I  am  sane, 
sane  as  an  old  maid.  Oh,  my  God ! ' '  He  covered  his 
face  with  his  hands  and  sat  utterly  still  for  some 
moments. 

"Dr.  Martin,  what  is  the  matter?"  exclaimed  the 
girl.  "You  terrify  me." 

"No  wonder.  I  terrify  myself.  How  could  I  have 
stood  it." 

' '  What  is  the  matter  ?    What  is  it  ? " 

"Why,  Moira,  I  thought  you  were  going  to  marry 
that  idiot." 

"Idiot?"  exclaimed  the  girl,  drawing  herself  up. 


360         THE    SUN   DANCE    TRAIL 

"Idiot?  Mr.  Smith?  I  am  not  going  to  marry  him, 
Dr.  Martin,  but  he  is  an  honorable  fellow  and  a  friend 
of  mine,  a  dear  friend  of  mine." 

"So  he  is,  so  he  is,  a  splendid  fellow,  the  finest 
ever,  but  thank  God  you  are  not  going  to  marry  him ! ' ' 

"Why,  what  is  wrong  with 

"Why?  Why?  God  help  me!  Why?  Only  because, 
Moira,  I  love  you."  He  threw  himself  upon  his  knees 
beside  her.  "Don't,  don't  for  God's  sake  get  away! 
Give  me  a  chance  to  speak!"  He  caught  her  hand 
in  both  of  his.  "I  have  just  been  through  hell.  Don't 
send  me  there  again.  Let  me  tell  you.  Ever  since  that 
minute  when  I  saw  you  in  the  glen  I  have  loved  you. 
In  my  thoughts  by  day  and  in  my  dreams  by  night 
you  have  been,  and  this  day  when  I  thought  I  had 
lost  you  I  knew  that  I  loved  you  ten  thousand  times 
more  than  ever."  He  was  kissing  her  hand  passion- 
ately, while  she  sat  with  head  turned  away.  ' '  Tell  me, 
Moira,  if  I  may  love  you?  And  is  it  any  use?  And 
do  you  think  you  could  love  me  even  a  little  bit  ?  I  am 
not  worthy  to  touch  you.  Tell  me."  Still  she  sat 
silent.  He  waited  a  few  moments,  his  face  growing 
gray.  "Tell  me,"  he  said  at  length  in  a  broken,  husky 
voice.  "I  will  try  to  bear  it." 

She  turned  her  face  toward  him.  The  sunny  eyes 
were  full  of  tears. 

"And  you  were  going  away  from  me?"  she  breathed, 
leaning  toward  him. 

"Sweetheart!"  he  cried,  putting  his  arms  around 
her  and  drawing  her  to  him,  ' '  tell  me  to  stay. ' ' 

"Stay,"  she  whispered,  "or  take  me  too." 

The  sun  had  long  since  disappeared  behind  the  big 
purple  mountains  and  even  the  warm  afterglow  in 
the  eastern  sky  had  faded  into  a  pearly  opalescent 


WHY   THE   DOCTOR    STAYED     361 


gray  when  the  two  reached  the  edge  of  the  bluff  nearest 
the  house. 

"Oh!  The  milking!"  cried  Moira  aghast,  as  she 
came  in  sight  of  the  house. 

' '  Great  Caesar !  I  was  going  to  help, ' '  exclaimed  the 
doctor. 

"Too bad,"  said  the  girl  penitently.  "But,  of 
course,  there's  Smith." 

"Why,  certainly  there's  Smith.  What  a  God-send 
that  chap  is.  He  is  always  on  the  spot.  But  Cam- 
eron is  home.  I  see  his  horse.  Let  us  go  in  and 
face  the  music." 

They  found  an  excited  group  standing  in  the  kitchen, 
Mandy  with  a  letter  in  her  hand. 

"Oh,  here  you  are  at  last!"  she  cried.  "Where 
have  you—  She  glanced  at  Moira 's  face  and  then 

at  the  doctor's  and  stopped  abruptly. 

"Hello,  what's  up?"  cried  the  doctor. 

"We  have  got  a  letter — such  a  letter!"  cried 
Mandy.  "Read  it.  Read  it  aloud,  Doctor."  She 
thrust  the  letter  into  his  hand.  The  doctor  cleared 
his  throat,  struck  an  attitude,  and  read  aloud: 

"My  dear  Cameron: 

"It  gives  me  great  pleasure  to  say  for  the  officers 
of  the  Police  Force  in  the  South  West  district  and 
for  myself  that  we  greatly  appreciate  the  distinguished 
services  you  rendered  during  the  past  six  months  in 
your  patrol  of  the  Sun  Dance  Trail.  It  was  a  work  of 
difficulty  and  danger  and  one  of  the  highest  impor- 
tance to  the  country.  I  feel  sure  it  will  gratify  you 
to  know  that  the  attention  of  the  Government  has  been 
specially  called  to  the  creditable  manner  in  which 
you  have  performed  your  duty,  and  I  have  no  doubt 
that  the  Government  will  suitably  express  its  appre- 


362 


elation  of  your  services  in  due  time.  But,  as  you  are 
aware,  in  the  Force  to  which  we  have  the  honor  to 
belong,  we  do  not  look  for  recognition,  preferring  to 
find  a  sufficient  reward  in  duty  done. 

"  Permit  me  also  to  say  that  we  recognize  and 
appreciate  the  spirit  of  devotion  showed  by  Mrs. 
Cameron  during  these  trying  months  in  so  cheerfully 
and  loyally  giving  you  up  to  this  service. 

"May  I  add  that  in  this  rebellion  to  my  mind  the 
most  critical  factor  was  the  attitude  of  the  great 
Blackfeet  Confederacy.  Every  possible  effort  was 
made  by  the  half-breeds  and  Northern  Indians  to  se- 
duce Crowfoot  and  his  people  from  their  loyalty,  and 
their  most  able  and  unscrupulous  agent  in  this  attempt 
was  the  Sioux  Indian  known  among  us  as  The  Copper- 
head. That  he  failed  utterly  in  his  schemes  and  that 
Crowfoot  remained  loyal  I  believe  is  due  to  the  splen- 
did work  of  the  officers  and  members  of  our  Force 
in  the  South  West  district,  but  especially  to  your 
splendid  services  as  the  Patrol  of  the  Sun  Dance 
Trail." 

"And  signed  by  the  big  Chief  himself,  the  Com- 
missioner," cried  Dr.  Martin.  "What  do  you  think 
of  that,  Baby?"  he  continued,  catching  the  baby  from 
its  mother's  arms.  "What  do  you  think  of  your 
daddy?"  The  doctor  pirouetted  round  the  room  with 
the  baby  in  his  arms,  that  young  person  regarding  the 
whole  performance  apparently  with  grave  and  pro- 
found satisfaction. 

"Your  horse  is  ready,"  said  Smith,  coming  in  at 
the  door. 

"Your  horse?"  cried  Cameron. 

"Oh— I  forgot,"  said  the  doctor.  "Ah— I  don't 
think  I  want  him  to-night,  Smith." 


WHY   THE   DOCTOR    STAYED     363 

*  *  You  are  not  going  to-night,  then  ? ' '  inquired  Mandy 
in  delighted  surprise. 

"No — I — in  fact,  I  believe  I  have  changed  my  mind 
about  that.  I  have  been — ah — persuaded  to  remain.'* 

"Oh,  I  see,"  cried  Mandy  in  supreme  delight. 
Then  turning  swiftly  upon  her  sister-in-law  who  stood 
beside  the  doctor,  her  face  in  a  radiant  glow,  she 
added,  "Then  what  did  you  mean  by — by — what  we 
saw  this  afternoon  f ' ' 

A  deeper  red  dyed  the  girl's  cheeks. 

"What  are  you  talking  about?"  cried  Dr.  Martin. 
"Oh,  that  kissing  Smith  business." 

"I  couldn't  just  help  it!"  burst  out  Moira.  "He 
was  so  happy." 

"Going  to  be  married,  you  know,"  interjected  the 
doctor. 

"And  so — so ' 

"Just  so,"  cried  the  doctor.  "Oh,  pshaw!  that's 
all  right!  I'd  kiss  Smith  myself.  I  feel  like  doing  it 
this  blessed  minute.  Where  is  he?  Smith!  Where 
are  you?"  But  Smith  had  escaped.  "Smith's  all 
right,  I  say,  and  so  are  we,  eh,  Moira?"  He  slipped 
his  arm  round  the  blushing  girl. 

"Oh,  I  am  so  glad,"  cried  Mandy,  beaming  upon 
them.  "And  you  are  not  going  East  after  all?" 

"East?  Not  I!  The  West  for  me.  I  am  going  to 
stay  right  in  it — with  the  Inspector  here — and  with 
you,  Mrs.  Cameron — and  with  my  sweetheart — and 
yes,  certainly  with  the  Patrol  of  the  Sun  Dance 
Trail." 

THE  END 


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Once  Upon  a  Time Richard  Harding  Davis 

One  Braver  Thing Richard  Dehan 

One  Way  Trail,  The Ridgwdl  Cullum 

Orphan,  The Clarence  E.  Mulford 

Out  of  the  Primitive Robert  Ames  Bennet 

Pam Bettina  Von  Hutten 

Pam  Decides Bettina  Von  Hutten 

Pardners Rex  Beach 

Parrot  &  Co Harold  McGrath 

Partners  of  the  Tide Joseph  C.  Lincoln 

Passage  Perilous,  The Rosa  N.  Carey 

Passionate  Friends,  The E.G.  Wells 

Paul  Anthony,  Christian Hiram  W.  Hays 

Peter  Ruff E.  Phillips  Oppenheim 

Phillip  Steele James  Oliver  Curwood 


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Phra  the  Phoenician Edwin  Lester  Arnold 

Pidgin  Island Harold  MacGrath 

Place  of  Honeymoons,  The Harold  MacGrath 

Pleasures  and  Palaces Juliet  Wilbor  Tompkins 

Plunderer,  The Roy  Norton 

Pole  Baker Will  N.  Harben 

Pool  of  Flame,  The Louis  Joseph  Vance 

Polly  of  the  Circus Margaret  Mayo 

Poppy Cynthia  Stockley 

Port  of  Adventure,  The . .  C.  N.  and  A.  M.  Williamson 

Postmaster,  The Joseph  C.  Lincoln 

Power  and  the  Glory,  The. .  .Grace  McGowan  Cooke 
Price  of  the  Prairie,  The — Margaret  Hill  McCarter 

Prince  of  Sinners,  A E.  Phillips  Oppenheim 

Prince  or  Chauffeur Lawrence  Perry 

Princess  Passes,  The C.  N.  and  A.  M.  Williamson 

Princess  Virginia,  The.  .C.  N.  and  A  M.  Williamson 

Prisoners  of  Chance Randall  Parrish 

ProdigalSon,  The HallCaine 

Purple  Parasol,  The George  Ban  McCutcheon 

R.  J.'s  Mother Margaret  Deland 

Ranching  for  Sylvia Harold  Bindloss 

Reason  Why,  The Elinor  Glyn 

Redemption  of  Kenneth  Gait,  The . .  Will  N.  Harben 

Red  Cross  Girl,  The Richard  Harding  Davis 

Red  Lane,  The Holman  Day 

Red  Pepper  Burns Grace  S.  Richmond 

Red  Republic,  The Robert  W.  Chambers 

Refugees,  The A.  Conan  Doyle 

Rejuvenation  of  Aunt  Mary,  The Anne  Warner 

Rise  of  Roscoe  Paine,  The Joseph  C.  Lincoln 

Road  to  Providence,  The. .  .Maria  Thompson  Daviess 

Robinetta Kate  Douglas  Wiggin 

Rose  in  the  Ring,  The George  Ban  McCtdcheon 

Rose  of  the  World Agnes  and  Egerton  Castk 

Rose  of  Old  Harpeth,  The.  .Maria  Thompson  Daviess 
Round  the  Corner  in  Gay  Street . . .  Grace  S.  Richmond 

Routledge  Rides  Alone Will  Levington  Comfort 

Rue:  With  a  Difference Rosa  N.  Carey 

St.  Elmo  (Illustrated  Edition) Augusta  J.  Evans 

Seats  of  the  Mighty,  The Gilbert  Parker 


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